


Needs

by paxnirvana



Series: Needs [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-09
Updated: 2010-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paxnirvana/pseuds/paxnirvana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A healthy body has needs that can't always be satisfied alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Needs

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A healthy body has needs that can’t always be satisfied alone. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes the need gets strong enough to be distracting. Iruka knows the best way to deal with it is to just get laid, but it’s still hard to work the time into his busy life. His deliberately busy life.

There are three bars in Konoha where unattached shinobi can go to find others with which to relieve that kind of need. ANBU keep a close eye on these places, because seduction is an ancient and time-honored infiltration technique. Only chuunin-rank or higher Konoha shinobi are allowed entry. No civilians. No visiting nin. They’re not whore-houses, just pick-up joints.  

Iruka hasn’t been to the Sleepy Owl in more than a year. Not since before Naruto went off with Jiraiya-sama for training. But one night in the middle of the week, Iruka finds himself seated at the scuffed bar, a big foamy mug of beer in front of him and his head bent over it. He’s feeling nervous and a little ashamed. He doesn’t like casual sex much. It sates the body’s need, yes, but the loneliness is always that much harder to bear later.

The place is half-full of shinobi even at this early hour. He recognizes quite a few faces, though, to his relief, he doesn’t see anyone he knows personally. Yet. He does work the Mission Room, after all. It’s vaguely embarrassing to see these people out of context even though he knows they have the same kinds of needs as he has. It’s just… well… it’s hard to admit you’re so alone you have to come to this place to do something about it. Hard for him, anyway.

Iruka takes a sip of beer. He’s only been here about ten minutes, but already he wonders if he should just go home as soon as he finishes his drink. This isn’t really where he wants to be, he tells himself. Class starts early in the morning after all. He has lesson scrolls to grade. And a pop quiz to plan, he adds to the argument with his body’s need. He’s almost ready to stand and just leave his beer behind when someone takes the stool next to his. He glances at the other person and bites back a surge of annoyance.

Hatake Kakashi.

“Master, sake please,” the jounin says quietly to the bar owner, a battered old ninja missing his left ear whose close-cropped scalp is covered with what look like bite marks. The man nods in acknowledgement of the order and turns to his stock. He has three fingers on his left hand, but he’s still deft with the bottles and it’s rumored he wields a wicked bar-towel when things get out of hand in his place. Iruka would rather not find out.

“Interesting to find you in here this evening, sensei,” Kakashi says to Iruka with a glance his way.

Iruka lifts his beer, controlling a brief urge to pour it over the jounin’s head, and takes another gulp.

“Everyone has needs, Kakashi-san,” he says after he’s swallowed. He’s never felt at ease around the other man. Not since the chuunin nominations. Not even when Kakashi started giving him news of Naruto as he turned in mission reports.

“True,” the other man says, nodding his thanks to the bartender as a cup and bottle are set before him. Kakashi pours his own sake. “But for some reason I thought the Bird might be more your kind of place.”

Iruka doesn’t flush, though his annoyance rises more. The Singing Bird is the bar for those who prefer only the opposite sex. The Dancing Mouse is for ones who prefer the same only. The Owl is for those who don’t have a strong preference either way. It is widely understood that the Owl is the more popular of the three. Life is short as shinobi, and most are fairly adaptable after all.

“Strange. I thought the same of you,” Iruka says before taking a deeper draft of his beer. He’s more than halfway through it now.  When he finishes it, he’ll go home, he promises himself. He’s really not in the mood to be here anymore now.

Kakashi has turned and is looking at him though, and Iruka meets his one-eyed examination steadily.

“Did you now?” Kakashi says, sounding faintly amused.  Iruka just shrugs. Honestly, he hadn’t given the jounin’s preferences any thought before now, but Kakashi’s assumption had rankled a bit for its implications. He well knows most jounin think he’s a pain in the ass because he insists that their mission reports be legible and complete before he will accept them – and they don’t get paid until he accepts them –, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely predictable and inflexible in the rest of his life too.

“But you’re here and so am I,” Kakashi says mildly, lifting his sake cup. Iruka wonders for a moment if he intends to drink through his mask, but the other man reaches up and slips the mask down to his chin as he lifts the cup to his mouth.  His skin is pale because of the mask, but his face is nothing remarkable. A little lean, but just a regular face.  Iruka is briefly amused for Naruto’s sake. A few years back, he’d listened to more than a week of Naruto’s endless frustrated complaints about how he and his team had uselessly tried to get a look at their jounin-sensei’s face after all. Iruka turns back to his beer, a rueful smile on his lips.  Poor Naruto. He’ll be so disappointed to find out Kakashi doesn’t have those rabbit-teeth he thought he had.

“That’s amusing?” Kakashi says, and Iruka gives a short laugh at his own thoughts. He takes another drink of beer. Feels a slight spin in his head and wonders if he should have had some dinner before coming here first.

“No, just thinking about something else,” Iruka says, fond smile lingering on his lips.

Kakashi’s visible brow lifts at once and Iruka realizes with a little pulse of embarrassment that he’s just admitted he’s not really paying attention to the other man. Who may actually be trying to pick him up, he realizes in another sudden flash.

“Oh, well, yes this is that kind of place isn’t it?” he says to his beer, then looks directly at the other man. “I prefer to bottom, but I will top if you want.”

Kakashi actually blinks, his eye a little wider than normal. Iruka turns away and drains the rest of his beer in one pull. He’s feeling decidedly light-headed now. Did he even have lunch today? Hm. No, that’s right he missed it. He’d spent it lecturing three of his worst students about their piss-poor performance on the last test. Thus why he really needs to get home and write out a pop quiz. And maybe find some food too. His stomach is swimming with beer.

Kakashi is still watching him, his sake cup half-empty and dangling loosely between his fingers. Iruka looks over at him, gives a shrug for the jounin’s continued silence, and slides off his stool.

“Well, I guess I’ll go home now,” he says, digging into his pocket for the coins to cover the price of his beer.  He places them on the bar and moves away after nodding at the bartender. “Have a pleasant evening, Kakashi-san.”  Then he walks out of the bar.

On the way home, he picks up a few sticks of yakitori from a street cart. He devours them on the spot. It doesn’t make his head stop spinning, but at least his stomach feels less sloshy. He’s sort of enjoying the light buzz he has at the moment. He rarely lets himself drink on school nights anymore. The cart owner smiles at him, a pretty young woman with a cheerful yellow kerchief over her dark hair and a wedding ring on her finger, and asks him if he wants more. He has one more stick because her smile is so bright, then leaves with a wave and a genuine thank you.  

Iruka drops into a convenience store and picks up a tub of cherry yogurt and some edamame.  He needs to do some real shopping for the rest of the week, he knows, but he’s not in the mood at the moment. He climbs the stairs to his apartment slowly, letting himself enjoy the night air for a change while digging his key out of his pocket.  When he reaches his door he lifts his head to look at the far corner of the balcony that wraps around the top of the building.

“Ah, Kakashi-san,” he says eyeing the other shinobi cautiously. The mask is up again, of course, and he has both hands deep in his pockets as he leans against the railing. The single eye is fixed on Iruka intently. Waiting for him?  Had he insulted the other man that much?

But “So that wasn’t an invitation?” Kakashi says quietly and Iruka flushes a little but doesn’t look away. Well, he had rather dropped his preferences like a bomb and then left without saying much else hadn’t he? He supposes that could be construed as an invitation. No, it pretty much had been an invitation. He just hadn’t thought the other would actually take him up on it. He eyes the other man thoughtfully as his flush fades and his pulse starts to run just a little bit faster.

“Yes, it was,” he says at last and opens his apartment door. He leaves it standing open and kicks off his sandals in the genkan. Then he steps up and pads across the floor to the small kitchen and puts the yogurt and edamame in the refrigerator.  He hears the front door click closed and the lock turn. He turns around to find the jounin standing at the edge of the genkan, already barefoot.

It’s then that he remembers the other man is a big fan of Jiraiya-sama’s porn books. He frowns slightly.

“I’m really not into anything too wild, just so you know,” Iruka says a little defensively.  Kakashi’s eye curves in a smile and his mouth shifts correspondingly beneath his mask.  He has his hands in his pockets still and he’s slouched slightly, but all his attention, Iruka can sense, is fixed on him.

“Ah now, my only request is full nudity, sensei. Will that be too wild for you?”

Iruka barely hides his relief as he shakes his head. It’s a common request. It’s much harder to hide weapons on bare skin after all. Most shinobi prefer these kinds of encounters that way because of that very fact.

“And I would like to top you, sensei,” the other man continues, his voice lowering slightly. There’s an edge to his tone now that makes Iruka’s pulse leap again. His body is starting to heat, his nerves tingle with anticipation.  “Since you prefer it that way.”

“Al-alright,” he agrees, his head spinning a little again even though his alcohol buzz has already started to fade.  Kakashi takes a single step toward him and Iruka flushes, suddenly uneasy.  He turns toward the bathroom, hand on the zipper of his vest, his head lowered a bit to hide his heated face.

“Let me…” he gestures toward the bathroom and Kakashi nods. “I won’t be long. Please make yourself at home.”  
   
He shuts himself into the bathroom and leans his hands against the cool of the sink for a moment. He looks up into his own eyes in the spotted mirror and recognizes the signs of lust in his widened pupils, his flushed skin, his parted lips. It’s equal parts fear and need though right now. This is a jounin he’s going to sleep with in a few minutes. A famous genius. One he’s been less than cordial with over the years. It’s both flattering and daunting. He shakes his head and scolds himself firmly. He’s just a man too. Who may turn out to be a crappy lay - rank is no guarantee of skill here, as Iruka well knows. He snorts at himself for the unkind thought and starts to strip.  

Once he’s naked, he gives himself a quick cleaning. Then he puts on his yukata and opens the door again.

Iruka is mildly surprised to find that Kakashi is still standing almost where he left him, with his hands in his pockets. He’s removed his vest, the weapon wrap from his right thigh and the bindings from his shins, but that’s all.

Kakashi’s gaze fixes on Iruka as soon as he emerges from the bathroom. Then with one hand, he strips his mask over his head, somehow leaving his forehead protector in place. His visible eye is a mild gray, Iruka discovers as he moves over to stand in front of the other man, not brown like his own. And his lips, Iruka notices, are neither too full, nor too thin, but they are a bit pale from lack of sun. There is the end of a deep vertical scar on the cheek beneath his covered eye. It must run right through the eye socket itself, Iruka thinks.

His gaze drifts back to the other’s mouth. Lingers. He wonders if the other man will still taste of sake. He wonders if he’ll find out. Some shinobi don’t like to kiss, though Iruka does. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed anyone. He misses it.

“Take your hair down,” Kakashi says quietly. Iruka glances away from his mouth and into his eye again.

Iruka’s pulse is throbbing in his throat now, his cock is starting to tent out his yukata and his breathing is no longer steady. He lifts his hands slowly, after a moment’s hesitation, and dares to trail the fingertips of one hand over Kakashi’s mouth in silent invitation as they rise past. The other’s lips twitch slightly at the touch but he doesn’t otherwise react. Iruka moves his hand away and reaches both of them back to release his hair from confinement. It falls around his face and he just lets the elastic band that held it fall to the ground behind him.   

Before he can lower his arms, Kakashi’s gloved hands are cupping his face and smooth lips are nipping at his, urging them to open. Iruka makes a sound in his throat and opens his mouth eagerly to the sweep of Kakashi’s tongue. The kiss is warm and easy and skilled. The best he’s had in far too long. He groans slightly and lets his hands rest on the other man’s shoulders as he closes his eyes the better to feel Kakashi’s mouth against his own. He does taste of sake, but only faintly.

Iruka is ready to lean in and make this last, but Kakashi pulls back despite Iruka’s sound of protest. “Where’s the bed?” he asks quietly as he lets Iruka’s face go with a last nip at his lower lip and Iruka blinks his eyes open slowly against heavy lids.  

“This way,” he says and turns to lead the way, letting a hand trail down across Kakashi’s chest. The jounin’s muscles are firm, but not bulging and overly hard. Kakashi clears his throat before he gets more than a few steps away and Iruka looks back at him. Kakashi strips off his gloves and drops them on the neat pile of bandages beside his vest. His shirt follows. Iruka swallows as he examines the lean, pale body revealed. Kakashi is scarred, but not excessively. Wounds are inevitable even for jounin, after all. But most are cleanly healed and seem to give him no trouble, Iruka can see. His muscles ripple easily beneath his skin.

Kakashi is pale though. Much paler than he is. It’s an interesting contrast to contemplate. Light on dark.

Iruka swallows a little harder than normal this time as his mouth seems dry. Maybe because he’s panting a bit. And the one eye watches him try to get his breathing under control for a moment before narrowing as Iruka’s hands go to the sash of his yukata. “Leave it,” Kakashi says, his voice low.  

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice hoarse, and Kakashi nods even as the jounin’s hands go to the waist of his own pants.

He strips himself naked in a few seconds, stepping out of his pants and underwear easily. Iruka’s gaze fastens on the jut of Kakashi’s hard cock. It is flushed and already glistening at the tip. He licks his lips and swallows again.  It’s a nice cock. Not too long or too thin or otherwise strange in any way. He wants to get his hands on it. Very badly. But Kakashi is folding his pants and leaning down to set them beside the rest of his clothes. And then the jounin is straightening up and walking toward him, his cock bobbing between his thighs, while Iruka’s pulse is throbbing hard in his veins. He looks up when the other man draws close. Kakashi has only the one eye visible, but the intent look in it is enough to make his pulse stutter and then race.

He knows it’s some kind of statement, that the jounin is letting him stay clothed while the other is naked but he’s damned if it matters right now. Kakashi is all lean muscle and lithe motion. He’s dangerous and deliciously hot and Iruka can barely breathe through his need now.  He closes his hands into fists at his sides to keep them from shaking. It’s been so long. And he’s never been very good at these kinds of casual encounters. He’s pretty sure he’s leaving a mess on the inside of his yukata from his own pre-come. But he doesn’t dare touch the other man. Not yet anyway, or he’ll embarrass himself.

With a soft groan, he turns and leads the way through the open door to his small bedroom. The room is dimly lit by the glow of the streetlight from the street below shining behind the closed blinds. He’s mildly amused when Kakashi slides the door closed behind them. His bedroom isn’t visible from the window of the main room, so the precaution seems a bit much.

But that amusement quickly fades into something far more eager and urgent again as Kakashi’s arm slides around his waist, pulling him back against the other’s body. Kakashi is warm and solid and his hand splays firmly across Iruka’s lower belly. Iruka is distracted by that rigid cock pressing tight against his butt, and the other hand now sliding between the folds of his yukata to find his own cock. He turns his head toward the other man’s face and his lips brush against a stubble-free cheek.  

“Fast or slow?” he says a little breathlessly as Kakashi grips him.

“Slow,” Kakashi replies. “Very slow.” And the stroke he gives him is just that. Firm and easy from base to tip, and Iruka gasps, letting his eyes close again. Well, he did ask. He can’t complain now, even though his blood is racing in his veins and his lungs ache from his stilted breathing. He shifts himself against the other man, enjoying the feel of warmth and hardness and enveloping arms. And shifting his cock in Kakashi’s grasp too as the other keeps stroking him, slow and easy.

He slides his hands back and explores the other man’s thighs and butt. Finds firm muscle and sleek skin. Savors the feel of both. Kakashi doesn’t have much hair on his body, but then neither does Iruka.

Kakashi is still stroking his cock. Holding him close by the hand spread over his jerking belly. His hips are pushing against Iruka’s gently in time with his slow strokes, fanning the heat in Iruka higher with each slide of cock against his ass, the shift of the thin cotton of his yukata against his skin. He hears the low, eager sounds he’s making and doesn’t try to hold them back. He just grips Kakashi’s butt with both hands, pressing him in tighter on each push. It’s been far too long, his dazed mind notes. This feels much too good. And while he didn’t expect this kind of slow pace and obvious restraint from the jounin, he’s certainly not going to complain. Not when the other man’s hand seems to know just exactly how to stroke him. Not when the other man’s body feels so damn good rubbing against his back.

Kakashi’s mouth is working on his neck too. Lips and tongue stroking up beneath his ear and sucking on the lobe, making him quiver with the sensations. Moist heat and warm breath. His only complaint is that his own mouth is empty. He thinks he’d like to suck Kakashi’s cock. He says so.

Kakashi chuckles, the sound a rumble below Iruka’s ear. “Not yet, sensei,” he answers, his voice a low murmur as his thumb flicks across the slick slit of Iruka’s cock making him shudder and tremble. “Maybe later. After I’m done fucking you.”

Iruka moans and bites his lip to hold back a more desperate sound. Apparently when Kakashi says ‘top’ he means it. If he was feeling less needy that arrogance might annoy him, but right now it seems to be exactly what he wants.

“You have something handy?” Kakashi asks, lips against Iruka’s jaw.  Iruka swallows hard.

“In the nightstand,” he says breathlessly, his knees threatening to give out. His cock is aching and taut from the slow strokes, leaking slickness all over Kakashi’s hand. And the sound of Kakashi stroking him is wet now. Hot and sticky and obscenely arousing. Oh yes. He moans softly. There’s lube next to the bed. Where he really wants to be right now. Kakashi smiles against his skin and he suddenly realizes he said that part out loud too.

“Whatever you say, sensei.” And Kakashi walks them forward a few steps until Iruka’s knee brushes the edge of the bed.

He’s expecting a push forward onto the mattress, or something like that, not the slow turn and the easing away of the warmth from behind him. There are lots of lingering touches and brushing fingertips as Kakashi shifts around and sits down on the bed. He puts Iruka between his spread knees, his hands framing Iruka’s hips in front of him.

The light-haired head tilts back. Iruka braces himself with his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders, feeling dazed and a little bereft.  His cock jerks impatiently under his yukata. He looks down into the half-shrouded face and frowns.

“Do you have to wear that?” he asks quietly, his gaze skipping to the tilted headband. He’s not sure if it’s a taboo subject or not, but it’s been bothering him since the other man took his mask off. It seems out of place.

Kakashi’s mouth quirks wryly and he manages to look faintly sheepish. “It’s the Sharingan. It copies chakra and I can’t turn it off.”

Iruka shakes his head slightly. “Pervert,” he says with a small smile. “Well, this won’t have much to do with chakra.” He lets his smile fade, his voice go quiet. “Take it off?”

“Whatever you say, sensei,” Kakashi says again, bending his head forward so Iruka can reach the knot in the back. Iruka unties the headband and lets it fall to the floor by his feet. Kakashi tips his head back, both eyes meeting Iruka’s curious stare blandly. The scar on his cheek does go all the way up through the eye socket and the brow above. It splits the eyelid as well. The wound must have destroyed his original eye utterly. But it was obviously sealed by a powerful healing chakra as the scar is smooth and even and his eyelid functions normally.

Beneath half-lowered lids, the iris of the left eye he has now is obviously darker than his right. That’s all Iruka can see of the famous Sharingan in the half-light.  But he really doesn’t care about the other man’s eyes right now.

“Mmm, that’s better,” Iruka murmurs and bends down to press his mouth to Kakashi’s. The jounin opens his mouth slightly and kisses him back, with slow sweeps of his tongue and plenty of easy motion.  They just kiss for long minutes, until Iruka’s blood feels like fire and his body is trembling.  

He’s in a daze again when Kakashi finally pushes him upright. The firm hands slide down from his shoulders to his waist. His yukata falls open as the sash is loosened with a few quick tugs and then his hard cock is enveloped in warm, wet heat.  

He gives a shocked cry and clutches at Kakashi’s head, his fingers winding deep in the wiry hair as the other man takes him deep. There’s a tongue lapping at the bottom ridge of his cock. And the press of a sharp nose against his lower belly. He can feel the back of Kakashi’s throat with the head of his cock and groans loudly, leaning forward over the other man’s bent head. Kakashi draws back, lips tight around his width and Iruka has to fight the urge to push back in hard. He thrusts slowly, groans again, his legs quivering slightly with the effort of restraint as Kakashi takes him deep again.

Hot and wet and sleek, Kakashi’s tongue swirls around him as he works him. Over and over. His lips tight. Movements slow and sure. Until Iruka’s sure he’s going to explode.

It’s then that Kakashi makes a low noise in his throat, the vibration against his cock making Iruka hiss and quiver. Fingertips tease down the seam of his groin to his balls. They’re taut and aching. He jerks as Kakashi rolls them gently with his palm and cries out a warning that the other man ignores.

He’s coming then, hot light bursting behind closed eyes, the release rolling through him like fire, sparking his chakra pathways and making his body bow with the force of it. His hips jerk helplessly between Kakashi’s hands as his balls draw up tight and he empties himself down the jounin’s throat. And the very idea of that is nearly enough to fell him, much less the reality of it.

Kakashi gives his cock a last lick as he lets it slip out of his mouth. He makes a low sound of approval but Iruka’s gasping and sweating and shaking too hard to care much as he leans over the other man, one hand clenched on the other’s shoulder.

Iruka doesn’t object as he’s lifted bodily by the hips and turned with little effort to be laid down flat on his bed. Maybe his yukata disappears somewhere along the way too. He’s not sure and doesn’t really care. All he knows is that he couldn’t stand on his own much longer anyway. His knees feel like water. And he already knows the jounin is strong. Pretending otherwise is pointless.

Iruka pries his eyes open after what he hopes is only a few moments of heady mental and physical blankness to find Kakashi lying braced beside him on one elbow, watching him with a distinctly smug look on his face.

“Seven minutes is all,” Kakashi tells him quietly. Iruka winces, a touch dismayed, but Kakashi doesn’t seem upset by his lapse into unconsciousness.

“Sorry to make you wait,” Iruka says anyway, his voice husky with relaxation as he shifts beside the other man to better face him. He feels good though. Languid and yet oddly energized too. He’d needed that more than he realized.

Kakashi just laughs softly and shakes his head, eyes hooded. “Don’t be.”

He glances at the man beside him, sprawled with negligent ease on his bed. Iruka’s bed is a double, but he’s used to sleeping in it alone. Kakashi fills it up with his lean presence. He’s still hard too, Iruka notices with a touch of guilt. He’s been patiently waiting for him to wake up it seems.

The bedside lamp has been turned on low, he realizes. It’s the source of the glow falling over his shoulder and onto Kakashi’s face. By it, he can see the Sharingan better now. The iris of it is dark red. Like blood. And three small points of darkness whirl around the pupil. Interesting, he thinks, but not important right now. More important is the fact that Kakashi still hasn’t come yet and he’s feeling like a selfish pig because of it.

He lifts a hand and rubs his thumb over Kakashi’s slightly reddened lips. He can still barely believe the jounin sucked him off. He figures it’s only fair he return the favor. But it’s almost as if Kakashi reads his mind... or maybe he’s just that good of a jounin and read his intent instead.

“No, I want to do you,” Kakashi says intently, lipping at Iruka’s thumb. He lifts his hand and shows he’s holding the jar of slippery salve that Iruka usually keeps in the nightstand. Proving he hasn’t been idle while Iruka was passed out recovering from the best orgasm he’s had in a long time.

Iruka gives him a slow grin. Leans closer and puts his lips where his thumb was, letting his hand slide down to a shoulder to brace himself. “Okay,” he says against the other man’s mouth. He’s ravenous for Kakashi’s kisses now. Takes them for himself, indulging his own preference shamelessly. And Kakashi makes no objection. Opening his mouth to Iruka’s. Lips moving relaxed and seeking against his. Using enough tongue, but not too much.

Kakashi’s free hand touches Iruka’s hip. Pulls them closer together. A knee nudges between his. A firm thigh slides up. He arches into the motion, rubbing on Kakashi’s leg. Feeling the surge of renewing arousal.

After a moment Kakashi rises up, pressing him back. He keeps their mouths together, still kissing as he shifts an arm beneath him to move him more into the center of the bed. Iruka’s ridiculously pleased by the effort, reaching up his hands to hold onto the jounin’s shoulders and back. Savoring the ripple of muscle as the other man moves, adjusting.

Kakashi braces himself over him on his elbows, between his legs now. He lifts his head, breaking the kiss to Iruka’s mewled protest. He blushes at the sound, a little surprised by how needy he is. Hooded eyes watch him closely, a small smile on the other man’s mouth. Iruka lets his hands fall down beside him on the bed and closes his eyes. His mind is whirling from the kisses. The feel of the other over him. He’s somehow rock hard again already and the blood that takes is making his mind spin. That must be it. He grips at the bedding, trying to steady himself.

“Touch all you like,” Kakashi says, his voice a husky murmur.

Iruka opens his eyes again and looks down. Swallows hard. Kakashi is lean and pale over him, his hard cock rubbing against Iruka’s with each unsteady breath he draws. They’re pressed close. Heated and firm. He shifts his own legs, lifting his knees so that his darker skin frames that lean strength, rolling his hips back in invitation. He puts his hands on Kakashi’s hips, pulling them closer.

“Like this?” Iruka asks, his voice breathless. Cock to cock is good too. Hot and hard and slightly slick with Kakashi’s pre-come.

“Mm, not exactly,” Kakashi says, bending down to put his mouth against Iruka’s throat. Iruka shudders and slides one hand down between them, gripping both their cocks in his hand. He squeezes lightly and Kakashi groans.

“Okay, that’s good, yeah,” Kakashi says against his skin. The jounin’s muscles are quivering now too. His back arching to let Iruka get a better grip on them both. He slides his hand over them a few times, savoring the small gasps the jounin releases. Then Kakashi pushes himself up until he’s kneeling between Iruka’s legs, reaches down and moves Iruka’s hand away from them both as he moves.

“Too good, sensei,” he says, his half-lidded gaze catching his. There’s heat and restrained need in that look. His other hand has the jar of lube in it. He twists off the lid and scoops out a generous amount before lunging forward to set the jar on the nightstand beside Iruka’s head.

Iruka bites his lower lip in anticipation as Kakashi leans back. The first place he puts the salve is on his own cock, to Iruka’s surprise. Slicking himself quickly and expertly. Then, with the remainder gleaming on his fingers, he braces himself with the other hand, leans forward and drops his hand between Iruka’s legs.

There’s no hesitation. No fumbling. His fingertips find Iruka’s hole instantly. Pressing gently against the pucker for a trio of heartbeats that make Iruka’s ears ache from the sudden hot surge of his blood through his veins. His breath catches in his lungs and he arches his hips back as, slick and searing, Kakashi pulls his fingers back and circles them around his hole. Watching him. Teasing him. Sliding over and around his goal until Iruka is pushing back against his touch. Measuring his readiness.

He looks down to where his hand is, pausing over the entrance once more and Iruka moans. “In,” he says, mouth falling open as he has to pant suddenly for breath. “Go in.”

Kakashi smiles then but it’s a wicked expression. Full of heat and savage need. Iruka’s cock jumps in response.

“Whatever you say, sensei,” Kakashi says, and presses a finger slowly into Iruka. He gasps at the gentle, slick slide. At the steady penetration. His body quivers, tightens against the intrusion, but eases a little at the slow, steady twists as Kakashi works the salve into him.

“Tight,” Kakashi murmurs with concern, gaze flicking back up to Iruka’s face.  

“Been a while,” Iruka answers breathlessly, gripping the blankets beneath him as he fights to keep his body from tensing too much. He’s afraid this might be harder than he thought. It never seemed this hard to relax when he was younger… “It’s okay. Keep going.”

Kakashi adds another finger, pushing it in slowly beside the first, watching Iruka’s face the while. He’s panting openly, unable to stop himself as Kakashi’s fingers twist inside him carefully. Thinking only that it’s been far too long. He feels far too full already and these are only fingers. He knows a cock is much thicker. But he wants it. It’s been far too long. And it can feel so good. Kakashi’s patience so far promises that it will be with him too. If only he can get over this small hurdle and finally relax.

“That’s good enough,” Iruka says, spreading his legs wider. Using just a trickle of chakra to help himself relax.

“Sensei, don’t,” Kakashi murmurs, the look he gives him part heated need and part concern. The red eye is spinning slightly, he can see. He shouldn’t need chakra to do this. He knows it. And it’s strange but it’s the comforting feeling that Kakashi is worried about hurting him that lets him release that small amount of chakra and relax honestly so Kakashi’s fingers can slide deeper into him with less resistance.

“See?” he pants, his gaze imploring Kakashi to continue now. He wants to go on with it. Needs to before he thinks about it too hard and ruins this at the end. “Go ahead. I’m getting used to it again.”

After a moment more probing his level of relaxation, Kakashi finally pulls his fingers out. Slowly. Crooking them at the end so Iruka gasps and jerks slightly, his own cock bouncing against his stomach. He’s still hard at least. He doesn’t have that shame to eat at him too.

Kakashi leans back and wipes his hand on a piece of cloth from near the end of the bed. He’d really gotten prepared while he slept, Iruka thinks. But all other thoughts scatter as Kakashi leans forward, one hand braced beside Iruka as he moves firmly between his legs again. He has an intent look on his face. His shaggy hair falls around his face, briefly shading the mismatched eyes. His lips are parted as he takes easy breaths.

Iruka can feel Kakashi’s warmth with his thighs. His fingertips dig deeper into the bed. He rolls his hips back slightly, knowing it will help some. But it’s the feel of Kakashi’s knuckles against his innermost thigh, the blunt head pushing against his hole that makes him tremble.

Then, the one hand holding himself steady, Kakashi presses forward into his resistance.

It hurts. It’s been too long and it hurts. With a stinging ache that makes him tense despite his best intentions and suck in a hissing breath. Iruka freezes, and the head of Kakashi’s cock is trapped in the tight ring of muscle of his anus.

“Stop,” he gasps, and Kakashi does, looking down at him with strained concern. He raises his hand and holds on to the other man’s shoulders tightly, fingers digging deep into taut muscle, even as he tries to make himself relax.

It’s always like this. Even slicked and prepared. Even though he knows what’s coming. Knows how much he likes it. And he does. He very much likes having a cock inside him. It’s just these first moments with a new partner are always the same. The very first penetration is hard. The wondering if he will wait for him to adjust or not. Or if he will push too far too fast and turn pleasure to ashes with the kind of pain Iruka’ll have to use chakra to control, breaking him out of his sensual haze…

But Kakashi isn’t like that. He’s aware and waiting, his uncovered eye looking down between them, watching as Iruka’s belly trembles with deep breaths as he works at relaxing himself. At letting the other man in. After half a dozen heartbeats he takes a freer breath. His body easing finally, muscles unclenching slowly around the other man’s cock. And then he’s ready.

He nods slightly and Kakashi flexes his hips gently again. The head pops through the ring of muscle and Iruka quivers, letting out a relieved breath as the discomfort eases. Why it’s easier to relax after that part, he’s never sure. But the initial penetration is always like that. Until his body remembers the pleasure that follows. He opens his eyes wider and looks at Kakashi. Grateful and relieved. He smiles slightly at the other man.

“It won’t be that difficult again,” Iruka says, his voice husky with leftover strain.

Kakashi’s gaze is dark. Intent. The marks in the red eye whirl. He licks his lips once and nods.

Then Iruka is flat on his back and crying out as in one, long hard slide Kakashi is all the way inside him. Right to the balls. No longer patient or restrained. And it’s good that Iruka’s already relaxed around him. Has let him in.

And then Kakashi is thrusting in so deep, filing him utterly, pulling back to the ring again, before pushing in all the way again. His cock striking the perfect spot every time for the first few heady thrusts. And it is good. So good. Just like he thought it would be. Better.

Iruka groans. Rolls his head. He finds his hands are pinned above his head, one by the wrist, the other by entwined fingers. Kakashi’s mouth is on his in the next instant, his agile tongue already mimicking the motion of his hips. Driving. Pushing. Stroking. Devouring him. He sucks on that tongue eagerly.

They won’t last long, he thinks. Not like this. But then the strikes are every other time.  Or every second time. The pattern becomes erratic. His upward spiral stalls.

He gasps and groans around Kakashi’s tongue on each accurate strike, pants wildly and squirms for the misses.

It’s on purpose. He knows it suddenly. Still he can’t stop himself from trying to coax the right motion out of the other man. Guide the deep slide. The firm withdrawal. So slick and hot. His knees are spread wide, his feet planted on the bed. His hips move into each thrust eagerly, urgently.

Sounds are coming from deep in his throat. Embarrassingly greedy sounds. He’s blinded himself with his own eyelids. All he can feel is the lean body above his, taut between his raised thighs. The points of contact between them burn like fire. Hands. Mouth. The skin of his thighs. Inside his ass. The motion. The strike. The hot pressure. He’s shifting beneath the other man. His rock-hard cock is bouncing against his own belly with damp slaps. He’s fucking himself even as the other fucks him. Rising into the motion. So close to the edge it’s almost pain, but not. He’s never been so open before. So eager.

The mouth breaks away and moves to his neck, over his racing pulse, Kakashi’s hot breath gusting across his sweat-damp skin as teeth nip, lips caress. He sucks in deep, gasping breaths himself. Greedy for air. Greedier for Kakashi.

“The sounds you make… those are good,” Kakashi says into his throat, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Make more of them.” He drives in, deep. Holds there for a long moment as Iruka writhes helplessly under his weight, pinned. Then he starts moving again. Thrusts tight and controlled, missing and hitting again. He’s driving Iruka wild with this pattern. But not over the edge. Not yet. It’s definitely on purpose. He groans and begins to protest – maybe even beg –, but Kakashi just lifts his mouth back to Iruka’s and swallows the sounds down. As if he’d been waiting just for that.

One hand is fisted above Kakashi’s grip. He twists it free to bury it in the other man’s wiry hair. The other flexes against fingers, clenches tight and relaxes in turn.

Iruka wrenches his mouth away from Kakashi’s and curses him. Blind. Lost in sensation. Desperate. And the other man just laughs softly against his shoulder. Sucks on his skin. Marks him as he fucks him. Iruka’s thighs quiver around Kakashi’s ribs as the hand Iruka freed skims over his heaving chest and down across his belly to his cock.

Kakashi grips him and Iruka arches up, keening wordlessly.

“Perfect,” Kakashi says as Iruka comes again, spurting all over Kakashi’s hand and their bellies with a hoarse cry. And Kakashi is driving into him as he does, against that clench and fire, until the jounin is shuddering and gasping over him too, driving in and freezing deep as his hips jerk erratically.

Kakashi collapses on top of him suddenly, a slack weight that makes Iruka grunt and shift their hip bones out of conflict but otherwise accept for the moment. He’s too sated and exhausted and warm to do anything else.

He stirs when Kakashi pulls out of him. Grumbles sleepily as the jounin shifts them both around until there’s enough bed. Turns into the other man’s chest when he finally settles back beside him and burrows his head under his chin.

“Stay still,” Iruka murmurs, draping his arm over Kakashi’s ribs, tangling their ankles and shins together. An arm circles his back. Pulls them closer together. Warm breath stirs his hair as the other man laughs softly.

The words are barely heard before Iruka falls into sleep. “Whatever you say, sensei.”

When his alarm wakes him the next morning he’s not surprised to be alone in the bed. He shifts back beneath the blanket and groans after slapping the clock silent. He can scarcely believe last night happened. But he aches in places he hasn’t ached in a long time so it couldn’t have been just a particularly vivid dream.

He’s a little disconcerted that he managed to sleep through the other man’s leaving entirely though. His guard must have dropped completely because of his relaxation. Not a good sign. He’d definitely gone too long without.

For once he doesn’t have morning wood. But he does have to piss. Rather urgently. He climbs out of bed and finds that his guest has at least cleaned up a bit for him. His yukata is draped over the hook near the closet and the jar of lube is lidded and set on his nightstand. The old tee shirt of Iruka’s he used to wipe up with is on the floor by the door, but Iruka can’t blame him for that one. He’d have tossed the sticky thing there too.

He snags the creased yukata and ties it around himself before he shuffles out to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he peers into the mirror as he brushes his teeth. There’s a bright mark at the join of his neck and his shoulder. A few more on his chest. He pokes one and grimaces. His uniform will cover them completely he knows. He checks his face. He doesn’t have beard-burn at least, though his mouth does look a little puffier than usual. But he might just be feeling a little too critical right now to judge properly.

A shower and shave later and he feels mostly himself again.

After he dresses, he ties up his damp hair and rummages through the refrigerator. Eats the whole tub of yogurt he bought last night with a spoon while standing beside the sink. He stares through the window at the empty balcony outside his kitchen as he does and wonders if he can get the jounin back in his bed again some time soon.

It’s when he sits on the step down to the genkan to put his sandals on that he finds the note. The small slip of paper had been tucked under the strap of the left one. He unfolds it warily. But there’s just a date and time written on it in normal ink. For an evening more than a week and a half away. A _henohenomoheji_ is scrawled beneath as the signature.

Iruka crumples the paper between his fingers, flushes a bit and smiles.

Okay, he thinks with a surge of anticipation. That will work.

\--owari--


	2. Wants

Iruka isn’t comfortable with the term ‘fuck buddies’. Maybe because his childhood friend and attempted assassin Mizuki had been so fond of using it to describe the on-again, mostly-off-again physical relationship they’d had during their late teens. The one that hadn’t lasted past Iruka making the Academy’s teaching staff right after Mizuki did.  

But there aren’t too many other terms that mean close to the same thing. So he’s kind of stuck with that one as a way to describe this strange relationship he seems to have fallen into with Copy-Ninja Kakashi.  

While it’s true that most of the village's jounin seem busier these days, but sometimes weeks go by without Iruka catching even a glimpse of the other man. When he does see him, it’s for brief, stilted moments in the Mission Room or just a faint nod in passing in the hallway that leads to the Godaime’s office. It’s irritating and more than a little infuriating how cool the other man always is at those times too. How bland the stare. As if he barely exists.

But then Iruka will come home from the Academy in the afternoon one day, just like normal, and suddenly find himself naked, slicked and flat on his back with Kakashi sliding into him.  

Like right now. The lean body is pressing his deep into his unmade bed while a skilled mouth devours his hungrily. There’s just enough tongue too. And a hand shifting under his hip to angle him just right.

But the term fuck buddies still bothers him even if it fits so well. Of course it doesn't bother him at this exact moment, Iruka manages to think even as Kakashi starts to move in him. Slow and deep and steady. Building up to a breath-stealing rhythm quickly.

No, the part that still bothers him is how Kakashi just assumes Iruka is available to fuck whenever he finally does decide to show up.

Not that he isn’t. Or he wouldn't have been stripping his own gear off with the same haste as the other man earlier, heedless of the scatter of weapons and scrolls across the floor. And he’d certainly tell the jounin off if he wasn’t free anymore before he put his tongue so deep in his mouth making words impossible. But he still is. Available. For the urgency of the hands on his body, seeking, gripping, stroking him until he’d shoved the other man here to the bedroom.

Iruka shudders and groans and silently curses the tiny, stubborn part of his mind that’s still worrying this thing over – like the word matters – even as the rest of him revels in the way the other man’s hard belly is rubbing over his taut cock.

These times are just a convenience. One forgotten unless handy. Except it’s never handy for him, since he barely ever sees the other man. Or at least not nearly often enough… it’s been more than two weeks this time… and the way Kakashi is rolling his hips up at the end of his strokes right now feels too… damn… good.

Hoping to shut his own brain up before he makes himself sick, Iruka twists his mouth away from Kakashi’s. “You're... at least… taking me for…  a real dinner… tonight,” he says between thrusts, the words coming in gasps. But even as that one stubborn part of his mind makes him say those words, the rest knows they don’t go places together. He usually knows better than to even ask. His hands clutch at Kakashi’s lower back, at his shoulder. Grip tight. Hold on.  

Kakashi buries his nose in Iruka’s neck and his mouth moves against his skin in a way that seems suspiciously like a grin.  “Am I?” he murmurs, and pushes in harder. “I’d rather eat in.”

"Bastard..." Iruka groans and lifts his knees, pressing his thighs tight around Kakashi’s flexing hips as he takes him all the way in. He tries to recover from his slip, but his concentration is shot. “...shopping... no food..."  Kakashi twists and drives relentlessly. Until Iruka winds his ankles behind the other man’s ass and makes a strangled sound of raw lust deep in his throat, any more words completely forgotten.

“Ah, that’s better,” Kakashi says and opens his mouth over the thundering pulse beneath Iruka’s ear and sucks his way down to his shoulder as the lean hips start to slam into him in earnest.  “Make that noise again, sensei.” One hand is braced against the bed beyond Iruka’s shoulder, steadying them both for each strike, each thrust. The other hand slides under him and flattens against his back as he arches into every one.

Glorying, Iruka writhes under the assault. Groans. Twists. Close. Closer.

Hangs there, suspended, desperate, until Kakashi leans in. Holds his mouth just over Iruka’s. And calls his name.

He comes undone.

Thoughts and worries become nothing; they’re swallowed, devoured as he cries out into Kakashi’s mouth. A hand fists in the other man’s hair as his balls clench. Release. He jerks as his cock spurts endless strings of come between their heaving, working stomachs that smear wet and slick and hot and everywhere. And if he didn’t feel so alive in that moment he’d think he was dying.

Kakashi pulls their mouths apart when Iruka’s done shouting and buries his face against his. Murmurs urgently into his ear. Words Iruka can’t quite make sense of against the roar of blood still pounding though them— but they almost sound like a promise. Kakashi’s breaths are quick and sharp but nowhere near as ragged as Iruka’s as he drives against Iruka’s final spasms until at last he freezes deep to his finish too.

His hand in Kakashi’s hair falls away, limp, until his knuckles half rap, half brush the wall on the far side of the bed. He lets his legs slide slowly down the back of Kakashi’s thighs until his feet touch the mattress again and he lets out a sigh. The muscles of his thighs quiver every now and then in delayed reaction.

Kakashi’s limbs and body are a heavy presence on him, but not crushing. They're sweaty and warm and hopelessly tangled. Iruka is finally taking easier breaths as they lie together on the bed for a while like that in silence.  He feels wrung out. Sated. Fucked utterly. In an hour or so he’ll be able to ride a small chakra high. The extra energy they made just now could come in handy then, he thinks.  But not just yet.

Kakashi is still half-hard inside him for a little while longer and it’s okay, in an almost too-full kind of way. Until one of them shifts, settling and he finally slips out. Iruka thinks they both might even be half way to sleep as the jounin’s head turns deeper into his shoulder. His own is rolled part way back, over the other’s arm. It’s not entirely comfortable that way, but he really doesn’t have much energy right now to care.

It’s funny how he stops caring about a lot of things with Kakashi lying against him like this, he thinks idly.  He opens his eyes then. Stares blankly at a crack in the plaster in the corner of his bedroom’s ceiling as a word for what this crazy thing he has going with Kakashi might actually be slips into his mind. His lips curve a little before he can stop them.

Wait. No. That word won’t do either. He closes his eyes and silently curses his own mind again. Tries to keep the tension from creeping through his body and fails. Kakashi stirs. Turns his mouth into Iruka’s shoulder and starts to nibble on it with careful teeth, slow and lazy.

“Okay, okay. I guess I’m buying. Where do you want to go?” Kakashi says quietly. Iruka's heart starts to pound faster again. And he mentally strangles the little voice trying to crow in his head. "Somewhere not too expensive, okay sensei?"

Kakashi shifts forward to press a kiss on Iruka’s jaw near his mouth.  A hand drifts up from Iruka’s side, spreading across his ribs to draw him closer again.

Iruka almost opens his eyes to catch the other’s waiting mismatched gaze in the fading afternoon light. But he's not ready for that yet after all. He shifts forward to meet those gently searching lips instead.

“Let’s just order in,” he says against them.

\--owari--


	3. Moonlight

A sound from the main room of his apartment brings Iruka awake suddenly, his pulse jumping. The streetlight outside is off for some reason, leaving his bedroom utterly dark. He finds the kunai he keeps hidden in the bed frame by touch as he leaves the bed. There is only silence from the other room now, but he knows he’s no longer alone. He glides to the partly-open bedroom door. Slips through it like a shadow.

A long rectangle of moonlight shines through the open main window. It is a window he did not leave open earlier. Sitting on the bare floor with one knee raised, directly in the middle of the patch of light, is Kakashi.

A man who is sometimes his lover, but nothing else.

That fact does not make Iruka relax his guard. Kakashi's vest and his shirt and his mask are off and crumpled in a pile beside him. His exposed skin gleams in the moonlight. But there are dark splatters on the floor beside him, streaks of darkness on his side. A white bandage is tangled awkwardly around one shoulder.

Iruka hasn't seen the other man for almost six weeks. Rumor says that he might have been sent on a highly-ranked solo-mission. Perhaps even S-Rank. Iruka wouldn't know that for certain even from his work at the Mission Desk. A- and S-Ranked missions are always handed out by the Hokage herself.  Tsunade-sama has been increasingly grim-faced these past few days however, that he does know.  And ANBU have been far more visible than usual around her office.

Another rumor he heard just this morning was that Kakashi of the Sharingan was overdue. By as many as five days.  Which is an eternity for a shinobi who is listed very high on the kill sheets of many other villages and countries. Even genius shinobi can be caught. Trapped. Overwhelmed. It might have finally been the Copy-Ninja's time. Iruka has trouble listening to those kinds of rumors. He finds himself making excuses to leave the room when the speculation goes that way.

But those rumors hardly matter any more as Kakashi is sitting half-naked in the middle of his floor right now.

Keeping his reactions under tight control, Iruka flips the kunai in his hand around to a defensive grip and steps out into plain sight. The other man's head turns, lifts, but the one shadowed eye is already looking his way. The Sharingan is still covered, he notes, yet there's something in the air around the other man that makes Iruka hold where he is. Something brittle and edgy and dangerous.

Kakashi doesn't move again, but Iruka can feel the intensity of his gaze. He doesn’t even try to meet it, just scans the other man's body for damage as best he can amid the play of deep shadow and silver light. Sees a fresh dark line inching down his side. He swallows down a flurry of questions. Watches that too-still face edged by moonlight and waits.

But the other makes no move, only watches him too.  And the dark line on his side is still making dark spots on Iruka's floor.

"Does it need a medi-nin?" he asks at last, his voice low.

He doesn’t think Kakashi is going to answer him for a long moment, and his pulse goes thick and slow, his breathing deepens. His nerves prickle a warning but he makes no attempt to form chakra, no attempt to change his posture to a more defensive one. He only waits.

"It’s... just in a bad spot." When Kakashi finally speaks, his voice is hollow. Raw. Iruka understands then.

There are procedures recommended to all lower ranks for when a jounin gets too close to the abyss; most of them involve getting far out of the way. And going for assistance. Both points are stressed heavily in the training. He knows this especially well because he teaches those procedures himself.

Keeping an eye on the other man, Iruka crouches slowly. Sets the kunai down obviously on the floor beside his feet in the light. Then he moves away from it half a step before he goes all the way down on his knees. Keeping his breathing as steady as he can, his gaze calm, he extends both hands, palms up, before himself slowly. Every move he makes is deliberate and obvious.

Kakashi's chin lifts slightly. His eye narrows.  

“Sensei, don’t be…” he begins, but the words are so tight he can’t seem to finish them. Then he closes his eye. Lets out a slow, shuddering breath and some of the dangerous tension fades from the air.

But not all of it.  “Bind it. Please,” Kakashi says softly, letting his head tip forward, his eye slide closed.

Iruka goes to him then. Circles carefully around behind to see the wound in the moonlight.  It’s not as bad as he’d feared, just a thin, palm-length slash beneath the crown of his right shoulder on his back. He had been in motion, Iruka calculates. Ducking away from the weapon that caught him even through vest and shirt. The cut is angled, though, so the flap of skin pulls apart and starts to bleed with even the slightest motion of his arm. Blood and serum trickle from it sluggishly even now.  It’s in a place it is nearly impossible to bandage by yourself too, Iruka knows from experience.

He kneels and lets his thigh press lightly against Kakashi’s side, places a hand flat in the middle of his back. The skin is cool and faintly clammy with sweat. Taut muscle quivers slightly beneath his palm, but the jounin makes no other response. Not even his head lifts.

Iruka does know a healing jutsu he could use to close the wound properly, but he doesn’t think forming seals would be a good idea right now. Not with the way he can feel how Kakashi is breathing only shallowly under his hand, how the tension still rims the air around them like frost. There are regular first aid supplies spread out on the floor beside them, spilled from an open pack that sits deeper in the shadows beyond. He picks out what he needs and goes to work.

The other man holds utterly still the whole time. As he uses an astringent wipe to clean his hands the best he can first. As he removes the awkwardly wrapped bandages. As he gently probes the wound to see the extent of it. Even during the wiping down of the area and the application of antiseptic. Kakashi holds rigidly still. Like a statue of ice.

The slice is not deep enough to actually require a healing jutsu, to Iruka’s relief, and it doesn’t seem too inflamed either, which is also good. Though it is obvious the wound happened several days ago and has not been allowed to close properly. He uses butterfly tape to seal the edges of skin together now. Covers it all with a treated pad. Winds bandages carefully around the other’s shoulder and chest to keep it in place.

When he’s done he sits back on his heels.  His thigh is still pressed to Kakashi’s side. “Do you have enough range?” he asks quietly and the jounin finally moves. Flexes his arm with careful control twice.

“Yes. It's good. Thank you, sensei.”  Kakashi draws a deeper breath in through his nose. Iruka can hear it, can see his ribs expand to hold it. He lets it out through his mouth, slowly. A calming technique. He does it again. And again. But each breath comes a little too quickly, is a little too loud.

Iruka bends his head and listens. Counts his own heart-beats. Takes a steadying breath of his own.

"You can, you know," Iruka offers then into the breath-filled night. Kakashi makes a strangled sound that makes Iruka's throat tighten, his blood throb faster in his veins.

"Stop," Kakashi says, and the sharp edge is back in his voice, in the air.

"It's okay," Iruka says, lifting a hand to touch his back beneath the bandage again. "I'm here with you."

Tension snaps into blinding motion. Kakashi is on him; bears them both back hard to the floor, Iruka unresisting beneath. His head doesn’t slam into the floor only because Kakashi’s hand is wrapped around the back of it. Hard arms wind tightly around Iruka's bare back. Kakashi presses his face deep in Iruka's hair, his chest heaving with the growing force of his gasps. Iruka wraps his own arms around Kakashi, careful to avoid the wounded shoulder, and holds on just as tightly.

They're skin to skin. Chest to chest. Hearts racing in time. The only sound he can hear is Kakashi's agonized breathing.

The nearly unbearable part is that Kakashi doesn't actually cry. He just takes those hard shaking breaths, over and over and over again, his hands fisting and relaxing, fisting and relaxing against Iruka and in his hair.  Their legs are entwined, their groins pressed tight but there's nothing of lust about it at all. There is only the terrible shudder. The helpless gasping.

Iruka begins to stroke a hand down Kakashi's back and up again. Slowly. Thoroughly. Touching him as much as possible around the bandages, away from the wound. Hand spread wide. Fingers tracing the wrench and strain of those breaths, the burden he bears, the weight of his soul all through that arching back.

He feels the moisture run down his face from his own silent tears. They pool against Kakashi's cheek, where it touches his. Smear and slide. He waits, lying calm and patient beneath him despite the hardness of the floor, the chill of the night-breeze through the window across his damp face.

Time passes. The moon tracks across the sky, begins to edge them out of the spill of silver light.  
   
Finally Kakashi's breathing slows. Eases. Calms. His hands no longer clench. His body slumps against Iruka's more naturally.  After a time he rolls them over his good shoulder, bracing Iruka beside him. Lays his head back against the floor and presses Iruka's head down to his chest. Iruka grips his hip and holds him close as he closes his eyes.

"I have a bed, you know," Iruka says into the pooling silence. Kakashi grunts softly. Shifts a hand out of Iruka's hair, to his neck, and bends to put their foreheads together. Cool metal touches his skin. The one eye is half-lidded, watching him. He savors the now easy wash of Kakashi's breath across his mouth.

"Mmm, sensei. I thought you'd never ask," Kakashi says as he presses his lips to Iruka's. The kiss is slow and gentle and almost tentative and Iruka is afraid it might break him, but he just tightens his hold on the other man and leans into it anyway.

Despite his words, it’s a while before Kakashi lets them get to their feet. He seems reluctant to release his hold of Iruka enough for him even to stand. But when he finally does, his hand stays on Iruka's arm, and he keeps in close step as they move across the floor and into the bedroom. Iruka makes certain to slide the door all the way closed behind them, blocking out the moonlight filling the main room.

"Did you break the streetlight?" Iruka asks, barely able to make out the other man in the darkness. But the grip of both hands on his arms now keep them close.

"No, I just removed the bulb," Kakashi says, amusement creeping into his tone, and lets Iruka walk him backwards by his own hold. "It's up on your roof."

"Be sure to put it back later," Iruka says sternly, lips twitching, and pushes Kakashi down to sit on the bed.

"Yes, Iruka-sensei."  A suspiciously meek reply. Almost teasing. Something clenched and aching in Iruka relaxes at last.

Iruka lets his hand linger on the bandaged shoulder. Weighs the risk. Frowns in the darkness.  "I can heal this for you," he offers quietly.

Kakashi picks up that hand and brings it to his mouth.  Nibbles on a fingertip. "Can you?" Kakashi says, his voice dropping to definite teasing murmur. "I think I'd like to feel your chakra in mine, sensei."

Tingles shoot up his arm even as he shakes his head at the insinuation. Despite himself, Iruka feels his face heat a little at Kakashi's tone and is glad of the obscuring darkness. “Let me do it now,” he says as he pulls his hand free of the other man's hold and forms Ram seal, gathering his chakra. Cloth rustles through hair and he hears the soft thump of metal on wood as Kakashi drops his forehead protector to the floor beside the bed.

Iruka forms the full sequence of seals to activate the Mystical Palm jutsu smoothly. He leans forward to hold his hands over Kakashi's wound, infusing it with his chakra to speed healing of the split flesh. The level of control it requires isn't one he can sustain for long, so he can only ease relatively minor damages like this. But it's a jutsu he uses fairly often as a teacher of small children who handle sharp weapons.

Kakashi doesn't move or tease him further as he works, for which he's grateful. Iruka holds the jutsu longer than he usually would. When he finally releases it, it's like the injury happened a week ago. He can sense that the skin is closed, the damage mostly healed beneath. It’s not utterly erased like it would be by a truly skilled medical-nin, but it is the best he can manage.

It took quite a bit of his chakra to do the healing. He’s panting slightly from the effort. Kakashi shifts back onto the bed, pulling Iruka up with him. The blankets are still disturbed from when he slid out of bed earlier and Kakashi gets them both beneath them with minimal effort.

Kakashi really doesn’t need the bandages any more, but it would be awkward to ask him to move now to get them off when he’s already drawn Iruka against his chest. They are lying back to front, his arms encircling Iruka from behind with his back to the wall, their bent knees nested. It's a familiar position. One Kakashi seems to favor on the rare times he spends an entire night with Iruka.

There are questions he should ask, things he could say backed up in his throat. They all go unsaid. Iruka lays still and just feels the other man's heartbeat, the weight of his arms around him. It’s darker in his bedroom than normal and the silence seems louder because of it. Kakashi’s nose is just behind his ear, his breaths easy against Iruka’s neck.

"Thank you for the heal, sensei," Kakashi murmurs. "Now your bed will do us both good."

Iruka closes his eyes and relaxes as warmth builds between them under the blankets. Feels the slow drain of the last bit of tension from Kakashi as exhaustion overcomes the other man and he finally slips into sleep.   

Eventually sleep comes to Iruka too.

He thinks they might have woken at the same time, but it’s always difficult to be sure with a jounin. He just drifts out of sleep to find himself looking into Kakashi’s half-opened eyes. They are no longer spooned, but facing each other on their sides. The room is half-lit by the glow of early morning. By the quality of the light, he can tell the sun hasn’t yet risen beyond Konoha’s encircling forest.

Kakashi’s hand lays over his wrist, slack and curved. As Iruka looks into his eyes his grip tightens slowly, his thumb brushing over the pulse-point, until he leans forward and presses his mouth to Iruka’s, sleepy-warm and slow.

But it’s Iruka who moves closer. Iruka who slides his hand beneath Kakashi’s neck, fingers into his hair curving behind his ear, thumb against his jaw. Iruka who deepens the kiss. Tasting the faintly sour breath, knowing his own is doubtless the same. Opening his lips wider to push his tongue inside regardless. Flicking at the soft flesh inside with it. He’s not entirely sure who makes the sound, but hears a low moan. He lifts his free hand and strokes it down Kakashi’s side to his hip. Digs his fingers in.

Kakashi steadies them with a hand on his hip too as he slides his knee between Kakashi’s and his erection rubs against Kakashi’s groin. The other man isn’t hard at first, but quickly gets that way as Iruka sucks at his lip, strokes his tongue deep.

Iruka’s hand drifts down between them. Is briefly stalled by the need to undo Kakashi’s uniform pants, while Kakashi has no problem slipping Iruka’s loose, elastic-banded sleeping pants down over his hips, leaving them caught around his thighs.  His erection bobs free, falling into Kakashi’s hand before he can get the zip of Kakashi’s pants all the way down.

He hisses into Kakashi’s mouth, wrenching his own away to pant hoarsely against Kakashi’s chest, his gaze falling down to watch Kakashi touch him. Scarred, faintly rough fingers stroke his cock carefully, gripping then sliding through the slickness already seeping from it.

Despite his distraction, Iruka gets Kakashi’s pants open at last, reaches within his loose boxers to pull his cock free too. Circles it firmly and strokes, his wrist brushing against Kakashi’s hand where it works over his own cock. He lifts his head again, finding Kakashi’s mouth with his. Lips and tongues shift and slide together. Wet and open and seeking.

His hips pulse. He’s thrusting further into Kakashi’s grip now, his own hand tightening around Kakashi’s in reply. Feeling the warm slide. The delicious friction. Hearing Kakashi’s breath catch, hitch along with his own. The build unhurried and inevitable.

He comes first. Quivering and arching into Kakashi’s hold. Gasping into his mouth. Body trembling as he spurts all over their bellies, hands. Messy and hot. He gathers up his own come and slicks it down Kakashi’s cock, thumb rubbing the head, fingers working the thick ridge beneath faster as he seals his mouth over Kakashi’s, driving his tongue deep. Hears the soft wet sounds as Kakashi’s tongue winds around his. Feels the hard shaft of his cock jump in his hand.

Iruka rubs his knee up between Kakashi’s thighs, frustrated by their pants. He wants skin. Wants to feel his balls tighten before he comes. Wants the sweat and clench of muscle beneath his. That fine, hard body close against his. And he thinks he’s saying these things out loud, but he can’t be certain until Kakashi says his name – almost like a plea – and Iruka bites on his own lip and moans. Strokes Kakashi faster. Feeling the heat spiral higher between them. Listening to his urgent breaths again, this time eager and abandoned, not broken. And it's heady and thrilling and he’s suddenly desperate again.  Even though he’s just come, is still dazed from it, he aches, longs. But then Kakashi does it for him, spurting in his hand, hips jerking, body curving closer to Iruka’s as he makes a hoarse, low sound of pleasure and it’s almost like coming again himself.

Iruka captures Kakashi’s mouth in a languid haze. Lips and tongue working with ease now. Soft and wet and slow. Not willing to give up the closeness yet, despite the semen cooling between them growing sticky on their hands, their bellies, everywhere.

“My my, what a tiger you are in the morning, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi murmurs after a few moments, his mouth curving wickedly against Iruka’s. “I should have found this out sooner.”

Every response that passes through his mind is either too weighted or too flip; Iruka kisses him silent again instead. Deep and thorough. He rises up into the kiss, rolling Kakashi onto his back. Presses their bodies together, heedless of the mess. The bandage still wound around the other man's chest is an unwelcome reminder.

A genius might know when he's breaking, Iruka thinks. After weeks alone and in constant danger. Wounded. Vulnerable. He might choose to break either where he can do the least harm... or where he feels most secure.  

There's an ache in his chest that hasn't left since he first found Kakashi dripping blood onto his floor.  An ache he didn't want to have for this man, but it's there.

"Oh my. Again?" Kakashi says when Iruka pulls back for air, his eyes half-lidded and filled with lazy heat.  Iruka looks down into those mis-matched eyes. Gives in.

"Yes," he whispers against Kakashi's mouth. "Again."

\--end--


	4. Letters

~*~

The first time the Godaime Hokage summons him to her office alone, Iruka is surprised. He gets along well enough with Tsunade-sama, from his times working with her in the Mission Office, but there is no special connection there. Not like there had been with the Sandaime Hokage. He misses the Old Man badly still. As Hokage, he finds she is fair and cool and alarmingly perceptive. Still, those blatantly-displayed breasts can be a bit... distracting.

Shizune, her ever-present shadow, stands behind her right shoulder as Iruka stands before her desk. There is no one else with them in the wide office. That he can detect. ANBU are always nearby everyone knows.

"Umino Iruka," the Hokage says, looking at him over her folded hands. Two rather crumpled pieces of paper sit in the middle of her desk between her elbows, far away from the messy stacks that surround them. It is as if she just pushed everything else out of the way to lay them there. "You are the closest thing Uzumaki Naruto has to family, are you not?"

Iruka's heart aches. He lifts his chin. "Yes, I am, Godaime-sama," he says without hesitation.

"As I thought," she says, picking up the top page in front of her. She peers down her nose at it for a moment, before frowning slightly at the second piece of paper beside it. "His handwriting is at least readable, sensei. Which is more than I can say for his current master's..."

"Oh?" Iruka says, perking up. News from Naruto? It has been nearly three-quarters of a year already since the boy left and he didn't realize how big a hole that would leave in his life. Naruto had just been there – loud and persistent – and now he is not. She smiles at him gently and offers him the paper in her hand.

The folds and creases of the paper are odd and he can't tell if it came by messenger-bird or not. It almost looks as if it had been dropped in water at some point, though the ink hasn't run. He takes the letter and reads it eagerly. The short account is rambling and indirect and completely Naruto; full of energy and excitement and a little confusion. It seems the boy is training and growing and not missing him at all; though he misses Ichiraku's ramen. Which both hurts a little and makes him proud. But Naruto wrote to him and it's almost as if he's sitting beside the boy at the ramen stall again, listening to him describe his day. He feels his eyes sting a bit. And he can't seem to force the grin that has broken out on it from his face.

Iruka reads the letter twice right there. Then, finally remembering where he is, he looks up from the boldly scrawled signature to the Godaime with a start. She is watching him with a small, pleased smile of her own. Shizune is stifling a grin behind her hand. He beams at them both and bows low.

"Thank you very much for sharing this with me, Godaime-sama," he says, holding the letter out toward her again. She waves his thanks and the letter away.

"It was addressed to you," she says carelessly. Grateful, Iruka folds up the letter and stows it in his pocket. He'll make certain to share it with Teuchi-san and Ayame-san at Ichiraku later.

She is still watching him, her expression growing a touch more thoughtful. "Have you made it a hobby to take in Konoha's biggest strays, Iruka-kun?"

"Hokage-sama?" He blinks once, briefly confused, his mind still caught up in a proud daze over the news from Naruto.

"Never mind," she says, her own smile returning. "Whenever news comes from those two – though don't count on it being often – I'll make certain you hear right away."

"Thank you, Hokage-sama," he says, bowing deeply to her again before he goes. He puts his hand over the letter in his pocket; it feels like he'll never stop smiling.

~*~

Much later that night, Iruka fumbles with his keys a bit as he opens his front door. He has just spent a pleasant evening sharing the letter from Naruto with the owner of Ichiraku Ramen and his daughter and reminiscing about the boy. They had both been relieved and excited to hear that Naruto was doing well with his new master. Enough that Teuchi-san had given Iruka their finest bowl on the house. Iruka had bought three or four bottles of sake in thanks so they could all toast the boy's progress together. Ayame had even cried a bit, she had been so relieved to hear Naruto was doing well. Ayame-chan really is a kind and lovely girl, Iruka muses happily. Even if she has no chakra potential at all and never does more than smile at him...

Because of the extra alcohol, Iruka is far more relaxed than usual as he disarms his traps and toes off his sandals in the genkan. He is leaning one hand against the wall, his head hanging a bit as he smiles down at the floor. He really has gotten out of the habit of drinking, he thinks wryly, but this was a special occasion after all! His head is spinning a little and there's a wide grin still on his face that seems almost semi-permanent by now. He hadn't realized how much he'd been missing the boy too. But there it is. That's a warm spot in his chest that used to seem kind of hollow and cold.

Still smiling, he sticks out his foot to kick the front door closed behind him. But his foot bumps flesh instead of wood. He spins, belatedly alert, only to be caught and pressed back against the wall by a hard form.

"It's the middle of the week and you've been out drinking again, sensei," Kakashi says, his eye half-lidded, his face masked. He's in full uniform, of course, looking competent and alert. While Iruka had unzipped his vest a while ago, his shirt is un-tucked in the back, and his headband is down around his neck. Loose strands of hair tickle his cheeks. He must look very untidy right now. But he doesn't really care. His grin widens.

"Of course, now you're here," Iruka says, letting his head fall back against the wall and his heavy eyelids slide closed against the happy spinning of his brain. It's spinning even faster now for some reason. He puts his hands on Kakashi's waist to steady himself, gripping the bottom roll of his vest. He can feel the press of the scroll holders on Kakashi's vest against his ribs. Arms bracket his shoulders. There's a knee just brushing against his, a foot between his own. It wouldn't take much to... he lets out a shuddering sigh as he shifts his hips and rubs a thigh between Kakashi's.

Hard muscle. Warmth. It feels so good to touch him, Iruka thinks. To have him here today of all days. But oddly, though he fully expects it, Kakashi doesn't press closer at his blatant invitation. Normally he'd be half naked already. But he is already almost half undressed... Iruka opens his eyes. Finds Kakashi watching him closely.

"Did you go to the Owl again?" Kakashi asks. And there's a hint of steel in his look and in his voice that starts to dispel some of Iruka's happy daze.

He frowns. "The Owl? No. I went to Ichiraku to tell..." he begins. And then his brain catches up. He bites off the rest of the words and shoves Kakashi away. The jounin lets himself be pushed off. Stands a body-length away, his hands lax at his sides. Deceptively lax, Iruka sees now. He's actually quite tense. Focused.

"You think – No, get out," Iruka says, anger rising as swiftly as his good mood evaporates. Kakashi doesn't move or speak. Iruka draws a deeper breath. "GET OUT!"

His front door is still open and Kakashi is right in front of him but he bellows the words like he would have yelled across the village after Naruto for doing one of his pranks. The other man doesn't flinch.

"Whatever you say, sensei," Kakashi just says with a slight bow. He steps back out of the genkan onto the porch with smooth economy. Without looking back, the jounin pulls the door closed behind himself with a quiet click. There is a tight flare of chakra beyond and Iruka knows he is gone.

His pulse is racing. His heart is thundering in his chest. His face is hot. Iruka falls back against the wall, closes his eyes and hears someone give a pained moan. It's him, of course. He bites his lip to stop the sound. Tastes blood.

Kakashi thought... he thought... and was angry... he expected... The hollow ache in his chest is back.

Iruka suddenly can't stay in his apartment. The echoes of his shout seem to linger in the silence. The emptiness of it chills him.

Iruka tucks in his shirt and zips up his vest. Brushes his hair back from his face with steady hands and ties his forehead protector on properly again. Puts on his sandals. He steps out the front door, re-activating his traps as he goes, closes it and leaps off across the night-dark rooftops. The sky is clear, but the moon has set. Only the distant stars light his way.

He uses chakra recklessly, his toes barely touching at each landing. Driving himself higher, faster, further with each soundless jump. The wind of his motion makes his eyes stream.

He hasn't moved like this since a mission to Stone Country more than two years ago. And he realizes, as he remembers that fact, that most of what he thinks about these days is the passing of time. Of the time he spends without those he cares for most around him.

Naruto. Sandaime. His parents. Mizuki, like he was when they were younger. Kaka—_No_.

There is no reason for him to have yelled like that. No reason for him to be so angry still. No reason for Kakashi to have even asked where he had been. No reason that fit in with what he knows they are to each other. Have to be to each other. They are just occasional lovers... no, fuck buddies. Working acquaintances. Two shinobi with a precious person in common who sometimes – rarely – go out to dinner to discuss that fact.

That is all. That is _all_. Nothing more. Though there are blood stains on his floor he can't get out... no... nothing!

If he chooses not to return to the Sleepy Owl again that is by his own preference. But he hadn't really wanted to go there in the first place. His life is far too busy to fit in that kind of ongoing... disruption, he thinks furiously, fighting back a hot surge of anger again. He leaps high over a battered shop sign to a light-pole in the middle of the next block and then on to a long, low roof that lets him flatten out and run, as he tries not to remember his joy of earlier. How happy it had made him to have heard word of Naruto at last. How happy he had been to share that word with others who cared about the boy too. How happy he had been to have Kakashi appear there in his doorway on this special day...

There is a cloaked blur suddenly moving beside him. The flash of a white mask. The whip of a scarf. ANBU. He stops, landing in a ready crouch on a rooftop on the far side of the city from his own, panting slightly. The other shape stops too.

"Is there trouble?" the ANBU asks. A woman's voice. Cool and calm. The sword on her back is still sheathed, her gloved hands empty. Iruka shakes his head, his face heating with shame. "Just personal," he answers and swears he can feel the ANBU's gaze sharpen on him for a moment.

"Ah. The forest is better for that," she says and vanishes into the night.

He curses under his breath because she is right and half of Konoha's shinobi probably felt the lash of his angry chakra above their heads as he passed. He reins it in now. Too little too late.

It doesn't take him long to reach one of the training grounds.

It's reckless and pointless, he knows, but still he spends nearly every kunai and shuriken and senbon in his personal arsenal on the surrounding trees and logs. Not thinking about how eagerly he always greets the other man inside the privacy of his rooms. Not thinking about how he sometimes fades away from encountering the other man in public. Not thinking about how the blood stains on his floor came to be there.

He runs and leaps and dodges night-shadows and the rustling shapes of leaves until his chakra is nearly gone and he's left standing beside a stream, bent over, with his hands on his knees, gasping for air.

Once he has his breath back, he drops to his knees in the moss that coats the river-bank and lets the sound of rushing water try to soothe his mind. The star's light shines faintly through the break in the tree cover above the river. Now that his rampage has stopped, the night creatures of the forest begin to stir again. He hears the cries of both hunters and hunted start up. The scurry of small lives, and small deaths, surrounds him.

After a time, he feels the other's approach and knows that's deliberate.

A handful of his weapons fall down into the moss beside him, tinkling and ringing against each other dully.

"Are you calm now?" the other man says from behind him.

_Konoha's biggest strays_, the Godaime had said, he suddenly remembers. And that Kakashi has an ANBU tattoo on his arm. And how Sandaime had always chided him for being too kind while still looking subtly proud of that fact. Iruka lifts his head as his heart leaps in his chest. He stares into the shadowy forest beyond the river, not turning around.

"You told her to stop me," he says. ANBU don't usually intervene inside the city if a matter doesn't concern the Hokage directly. The watch has jurisdiction there. But the watch is required to file a report if they stop someone. He hasn't been on report in years – not that the watch caught him very often even back when the Uchiha still patrolled the village. But official reports generate gossip; gossip is nearly the second life-blood of shinobi. And it seems to be something the Copy-Ninja does all he can to avoid.

"My question was out of line," Kakashi says with stilted formality. "Where you go in the evenings is, of course, your own business, sensei."

"And I thought you were supposed to be a genius, Hatake Kakashi-san." He hears a breath drawn behind him but he just tips his head back and looks up at the stars between the leaves of the trees surrounding them. They are brilliant and sharp and cold in their distance. Untouchable. But sometimes they fall where someone can reach out and pick them up...

"I had a letter today," he says, letting the last traces of his shame and anger go with the words. As soon as he does some of the day's previous happiness starts to trickle back. "From Naruto."

There is movement behind him. An easing of tension. "I... hadn't heard." Kakashi's voice comes from lower now. From just behind Iruka's shoulder.

"He's doing well, he says. Training hard every day. He's excited and frustrated both, of course." He laughs ruefully and shakes his head. "Did you know he even calls Jiraiya-sama the 'Pervy Sage' in writing?"

Kakashi's laugh is low and rich.. "I'm not surprised. I don't think Jiraiya's quite gotten used to that name yet either."

"Hasn't he?" Iruka's grin widens. He has met the famous shinobi a time or two down at the onsen as well as spoken with him in the halls of the Hokage's Tower. Mostly about Naruto, of course, but not only. There was no formality or pretension about the great sannin at all. Actually, Jiraiya-sama had struck him as a man with a fine sense of humor and proportion and warmth. A good fit for Naruto.

"Well, the boy will yell it at the top of his lungs in the middle of crowded streets..." Kakashi explains dryly.

Iruka laughs out loud, able to picture Naruto doing just that so very easily. The happy sound makes the small hunting creatures of the night around them pause again briefly.

Into the waiting silence afterwards he says, "I'd have yelled more than you did, you know..."

"I didn't yell," Kakashi interjects, sounding faintly aggrieved. "I asked. "

"...Then I might have thrown things. Or decked you." His voice has gone tight and hoarse. He's not sure if he wants to laugh or cry. He swallows hard against both feelings.

A hand touches his shoulder then. Just fingertips across the fabric of his sleeve. He trembles slightly, his hands fisting on his thighs, and it falls away.

"But after I apologized, the make up sex would have been good." Iruka bows his head, closing his eyes. There's another noise then, from the other man. Low. Pained. Iruka lifts his head sharply. Looks over his shoulder. Kakashi is crouched on his heels watching him with both eyes, the stricken look on his face clear even through the mask.

He can't take it any more; his lips twitch slightly as he shakes his head once. "You really aren't a genius at everything after all, are you? That's good."

"What?" Kakashi says blankly as Iruka turns and launches himself at him. He bowls him over only because Kakashi lets him, he knows. But he plants himself across Kakashi's hips and the other man doesn't dissolve into air like a clone would. And this is no substitution either; he puts his hands on the jounin's shoulders and bends his face down close enough to feel his breath even through the mask.

"This is where you apologize," Iruka says with mock ferocity, glaring down at his captive even as he fights to keep his stern frown from turning into a grin. Mostly fails. "So we can get on with the sex."

"I'm sorry, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi says promptly, his hands resting on Iruka's hip, his thigh. Though his words are nearly rote, his gaze is somber and steady. Open. Sincere. Iruka's heart jerks, races faster, and he feels a touch of panic.

Before he can start thinking again and stop himself, he tugs the mask down and kisses Kakashi hard. And it's all eager lips and searching tongues and warm, wet heat. Kakashi's hands tighten, slide around his back to hold him more securely. Close and tight.

He slides his own hands up, slipping Kakashi's forehead protector all the way off. Threads his fingers in the wiry hair, pressing himself closer to the other man as their mouths all but savage each other.

They strip each other there in the cool night air. Eagerly. Swiftly.

Removing each piece of clothing is a kind of breathless, awkward race somehow managed between devouring, urgent kisses. Until finally he's straddling Kakashi's naked hips and he's bare himself, his knees cushioned by springy moss.

Starlight gleams in Kakashi's light hair. Limns his pale skin until it almost glows. Iruka smoothes his darker-skinned hands over the lean chest, the hard shoulders, and down sleekly muscled arms like shadows on light. He looks his fill of his partner eagerly. Kakashi has a honed, deadly shape, one most often masked by his deliberately loose clothing or the darkness of Iruka's bedroom. He knows his own body is far less defined, far less strong. Though the difference hardly seems to matter given the way Kakashi is looking at him right now from beneath heavy eyelids, so hungry and heated.

The need is entirely mutual. He can't deny it.

Iruka gasps and throws his head back as Kakashi gathers their rigid cocks together in his hand between them. Presses them tight as he reaches up and hooks his free hand behind Iruka's neck and draws him down again.

Mouth on mouth. Hot and wet and slick. Cock to cock. Kakashi stroking them together, coaxing slick from them both. Sliding his hand over them together, tight and glorious. He grips Kakashi's shoulder, groans into his mouth. Adds his own hand to Kakashi's. His fingertips teasing both of them, cockheads slick, ridges pulsing against each other, Kakashi's fingers flexing expertly on their shafts until Iruka is panting desperately, his hips rocking into each stroke with abandon.

Iruka groans and pulls back enough to look down at their entwined hands. Listens to the slick wet sound of each stroke. Feels Kakashi's hold on his neck trying to draw him back and resists. He looks up, catches the other's heavy gaze. Mouths words he may regret later, but can't stop himself from saying now before he leans down again and drives his tongue deep into Kakashi's suddenly slack mouth.

He finds himself on his back abruptly, lying in the body-warmed hollow of moss where Kakashi had been before. Substitution. Done more smoothly than he'd ever imagined it could be done while naked. Kakashi is looming above him, his gaze fierce. "I'll hold you to that, Iruka-sensei," he says as he reaches for his discarded vest. Retrieves a tube from a pouch. Pops the cap and squeezes shining lubricant onto his fingers.

Iruka spreads his legs wider without hesitation, lifting his knees and planting his feet in the moss. Draws a shuddering breath as Kakashi's fingers find his hole. Slick it quickly and thoroughly. Iruka's breath hitches again as Kakashi fits his cock there with one hand, the other bracing himself beyond Iruka's shoulder.

He looks into Iruka's face as he presses inside.

Past the first resistance that really isn't anymore. He's eager for this. Ready. So hot and slick. Kakashi's gaze is holding his. Both eyes. Sharingan and not. He wants to close his own eyes. To look away from that consuming gaze. But he can't. He opens his mouth. Gasps as heat fills him. Hard. Slick. He grips Kakashi's arm. His side. Rolls his hips up into the pressure impaling him. Filling him. So good. Kakashi. Sliding deep. Leaning closer, pressing their slicked bellies together.

"Kakashi! Yes! Ah! " He hears the desperate sounds ringing through the night air in his own voice, reads the pleased satisfaction in the hooded gaze. In the eye that whirls and the one that doesn't.

"Say it again," Kakashi demands against his mouth. Lips catching his but not taking. Tongue teasing behind his lip. He fills him completely now. And Iruka can barely think. Barely remember what he'd said.

Kakashi slides back out of him. Completely. And Iruka is bereft. Grabs at him desperately. "Only you." He says the words again. Cries them against his mouth. "Only you!"

Kakashi is back inside him again. Hard and fast. Iruka cries out and arches into him. Winds his legs around Kakashi's thighs to keep him there this time.

"I didn't think I was the possessive type," Kakashi says as he begins to move at last. "But it seems I am. Sorry to put such a burden on you, Iruka-sensei, but you'll have to endure it."

He has no chance to answer as Kakashi drives into him. Each stroke is fast and hot and Kakashi is relentless, each one deep and skilled and perfect. He's coming far too soon. Already. Breathless and blind with it. His body clenching, surging, pulsing helplessly. Hard driving heat filling him even as he shivers and cries out, gripping Kakashi tight, his come splashing all over his own chest, his chin from the force of his release.

Kakashi bends down and nibbles at the line of Iruka's jaw. Stroking slower now, but still moving in him. Hard and sure. Seemingly intent on savoring the relaxed satisfaction that fills Iruka. Who lets his legs slide down his hips. Tightens his arms around the other's back. Opens himself wider and presses his hips up. And draws a groan from Kakashi that vibrates against Iruka's throat in response.

"No one else," Kakashi says against his skin, pushing deep and holding still there as his hips jerk, his body shudders and he comes hard inside Iruka.

They lay still in the night's silence for a time, letting their breathing and heart beats settle slowly back to normal. He keeps his hold on the other with some difficulty; his arms feel heavy, his body is sated and relaxed. And so is Kakashi. His slack weight is diffused some by the springy moss beneath his back, Iruka does have some trouble drawing a comfortable breath yet he feels no desire to move. Because it seems Kakashi is asleep – or nearly so – on top of him.

He gently strokes the lean back, the warm shoulders as he waits and watches the stars shine through the leaves above them. It is no more than a few minutes before Kakashi shifts. He lifts himself slightly with a low murmur of apology to let Iruka breathe again for a moment, then promptly steals his breath again with a slow, languid kiss.

It hangs heavy in his thoughts that Kakashi has not promised him anything in return. But Iruka won't demand empty words. He already knows it's impossible; the other man has a duty to his name to fulfill someday.

Despite his resolve, he can't let it go completely. "It's okay," he says when he can speak again. "I don't mind."

"You should mind, sensei," Kakashi says, his voice solemn, his eyes half-lidded and shadowed. "I'll take advantage."

"Well, I won't loan you any money, so don't ask," Iruka says, frowning sternly at him. Kakashi lets out a startled laugh that vanishes into a pleased murmur as Iruka leans up and kisses him again, sleek and swift and eager. Kakashi threads his hands in Iruka's hair. Tips his head back and deepens the kiss further until his mind is whirling with desire again.

It's enough, he thinks. Right now. This is enough.

 

~end~


	5. Status

Iruka knows he is a good chuunin. But he's only a chuunin, and one with no ambition to be jounin.

Because to become a jounin takes a great deal of work to specialize your skills — or one certain skill – and focus toward that goal. But Iruka can't be an Academy teacher and work to be a jounin too. He doesn't have the energy, or the time, to do both. Being a teacher, he realized long ago, is his true shinobi way.

But the man pressing him to the curved wall of the Hokage's Tower hallway is a genius jounin. One who has been jounin since the age of thirteen. Chuunin from age six. He was a child prodigy. Raised to be a terrible weapon during a time of bitter war. He does more missions on his own for Konoha in a year than many three-man teams do. His skills are honed to the finest edge through constant use.

And there are probably at least fifty ways more than the twelve ones Iruka knows offhand how the other man could kill him in this instant alone, but those deadly hands are occupied finding clever and distracting ways to reach the skin beneath his uniform instead.

Rough fingertips trail down the dip next to his spine to his waist. Slip beneath his pants to brush the upper curve of his buttocks. Linger along the cleft between. Iruka shudders. Moans and arches into that touch. There are teeth brushing against the line of his neck. Warm breath against his jaw. He tangles one hand in the other man's hair while the other grips the back of his vest tightly. He deliberately forgets the fact that they're both on duty in the rush of sensation. That they're standing in the open in a fairly well-traveled hallway. That he hasn't seen the other man in more than a week before two minutes ago.

"Can I give you my report, sensei?" Kakashi says against his mouth.

"Absolutely not," Iruka says breathlessly. "Tohru-san has the desk—" He scarcely gets the words out before Kakashi's mouth is pressing over his. Tongue seeking. Lips eager.

Soon he's not paying attention to anything but how Kakashi's mouth makes him feel like he is sinking into wet heat. So eager and consuming and endless. Remembers the last time he saw the other man as cool moss against his back and the night sky through trees above and reckless words spoken aloud. He's been on a mission since. Out of the Village. Iruka wraps his arms around the other man tighter. Rubs against him, moaning low in his throat.

Suddenly Kakashi is turning his head, one hand already lowering from shifting his mask back into place, his eye narrowed. Iruka blinks and forces himself to pay attention to his surroundings again – like he should have been already. He looks past Kakashi's shoulder and finds Kotetsu frozen at the turn of the hallway below them. The other chuunin has a bundle of scrolls under one arm and his eyes are wide and fixed on them in startled surprise.

"Oh hell, sorry," Kotetsu says, glancing quickly at Iruka then back to the silent jounin. Beside him Kakashi smiles. Iruka can see his jaw shift, his eye curve. His posture seems lazy, but Iruka can feel his tension. Iruka tries to stifle the surge of apprehension that fills him.

"Good afternoon, Kotetsu," Iruka says, working to hold on to his temper. It's not Kotetsu's fault after all. He's working. As Iruka should be. "Just… taking a break."

"Nice break," Kotetsu – ever the smart-ass – says, grinning knowingly at him. But when the other chuunin's gaze shifts back to Kakashi he blanches. The scrolls under his arm rustle as he tenses. "Um. Well. These are due in the Hokage's office. Like now. See ya 'round, Iruka." Kotetsu swiftly forms seals and transports himself away in a swirl of leaves.

Iruka closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the wall in resigned dismay. If Kotetsu isn't the biggest gossip in Konoha, his partner Izumo is.

One of Kakashi's arms is still around his waist, his hand still beneath Iruka's shirt, but the other is now in his own pocket. He's standing hip-shot, in his normal casual pose which is actually relaxed again. It puts their thighs close against each other. Enough that he can feel they're both hard still. Like rocks. Kakashi's position kept Kotetsu from seeing that much, at least – though he probably guessed anyway. Since Iruka had had his hands plastered all over Kakashi's back in return.

Iruka's blood is still hot and running fast in his veins. How he kept himself from blushing he'll never know. He swallows. Tries to smooth out his racing pulse as he forces his hands to flatten against the wall behind him. It isn't as if someone couldn't have figured out that they were seeing each other through a little observation, he thinks, his mind racing as wildly as his pulse.

It's just not the shinobi way to be overt with personal relationships. It's _definitely_ not the jounin way.

"My apologies for getting you into an uncomfortable scene, Kakashi-san," he says quietly.

"An apology is hardly necessary," Kakashi says, still looking down the hallway rather than at him. "And it's not uncomfortable at all." He turns and looks at Iruka then, his gaze bland, distant. "For me."

Iruka flushes. Can think of nothing to say for a moment, his mind gone blank. This seems to have suddenly become the one conversation he never thought to have with Kakashi. Kakashi is watching him with apparent disinterest. He can read nothing from the other man. But knows that he has his full attention.

"I... I don't want to become a liability," he says at last, through lips that feel stiff and frozen.

Kakashi cocks his head, his gaze still cool. "As one of Naruto's most precious persons, Iruka-sensei; you're already a tremendous liability. It's far too late to be modest now."

Iruka lets out a shuddering breath, his face heating more, but he stiffens his back too. "I know. Which is why I try to stay low profile. I'm hardly strong enough to stay out of his enemies' hands for long."

Kakashi turns then, slipping his mask down again and angling his hips to put his still-rigid cock against Iruka's flagging one again. He braces his forearms on the wall to either side of Iruka's head and leans in, caging him so that he'd have to use ninjutsu to get away. If he even could then. Iruka can't stop the way his breathing hitches, his pulse jumps and races.

"Naruto's enemies are Konoha's enemies. And you underestimate yourself, sensei," Kakashi says, watching Iruka's mouth. His gaze flickers up, catches Iruka's again. The intensity of that look makes Iruka feel raw, exposed, faintly panicked. "And you underestimate those who will do all they can to prevent that kind of thing from happening."

"…there are far better ways to spend Konoha's resources," Iruka says through a throat so tight he feels almost like he is choking on each word.

Kakashi's gaze narrows and something glittering and chill gathers in the air for a moment. "There are never better ways. Not when one's most precious are at risk. That is the Will of Fire, as you well know." He leans close enough that their lips brush, and Iruka gasps for breath, feeling utterly smothered. "This is not modesty at all, is it, sensei?"

"You... I never.. I don't... " He doesn't even know what he is trying to say. What Kakashi is saying. Somehow he can't quite grasp it.

"I would never spend my life for anything less, sensei."

Iruka can only stare at Kakashi. His voice frozen. His heart thundering in his chest. He wants to run then. Knows the impulse shows in his eyes.

Kakashi slides his hands down the wall before Iruka can move and catches his face gently between both hands. He stares into his eyes for a breathless heartbeat, then kisses him once. Hard and lingering.

But there are voices then. From the hallway below. Laughing. Talking. Ordinary conversations. Activity. This is the Hokage's Tower, a location far too public. They've already been seen once. Iruka flinches and Kakashi takes a step back and pulls up his mask with unhurried ease.

Iruka glances at Kakashi once, then away.

"I have to return to the Mission Room," he says, his voice unfreezing now that Kakashi has moved away from him. "My break is over."

He can feel the jounin's gaze on him but he won't meet it. He lifts his hands to first seal and uses chakra to calm his erection down. It makes him briefly dizzy. Then he hurries down the rounded corridor and away, past a knot of shinobi who pay no attention to his passing except in the most casual of ways.

He doesn't notice his uniform shirt is hanging out over the side of his pants until he reaches the hall outside his destination. Hastily he tucks it back in. Checks his forehead protector as well, straightening it and smoothing back his hair. Tugs his vest down straight again. Takes a steadying breath.

Then he pastes a neutral expression onto his face and returns to work.

~*~

Iruka is discussing the state of a jounin-sensei's team's report with the man – abysmal; the handwriting is nearly illegible, half the required fields are empty and, D-rank or not, there is no excuse for sloppy information gathering – when something makes him glance across the large room toward the doorway.

Kakashi is standing slouched just inside the entrance. It's been several hours since he left him in the hallway above. It's finally getting close to the end of the working day and the Mission Room is crowded with shinobi eager to file their reports and earn their pay.

Iruka has been expecting him to show up to turn in his mission report for hours now, but now that he is here part of him wishes he had taken the report earlier so he wouldn't have to see him quite yet. With determination, he focuses on the annoyed jounin in front of him again.

"Gokuro-san, you know this is unacceptable," Iruka says firmly as he pushes the scroll back across the desk toward the glaring jounin. "And you are setting a poor example for your cell this way." The three genin clustered behind him are watching the scene avidly and a little apprehensively. They were not former students of his, Iruka has already noted with some relief. He'll be sure to remember Gokuro and his attitude for the future at genin-assignment time.

"Bit uppity for a rubber-stamp chuunin, aren't you?" the man says, leaning forward with both hands on the table to either side of the disputed scroll, his lip curled slightly. He is an older man and has a rather impressive set of scars across the right side of his face, one of which intersects the corner of his mouth. The sneer is that much uglier because of it.

"Unlike some, I take all of my duties to Konoha quite seriously, jounin-san," Iruka says calmly, his gaze flat and icy, his hands folded on the desk in front of him. "Proper records ensure Konoha's prosperity and reputation flourish along with yours. Would you recklessly damage that, jounin-san?"

His tone is utterly polite and he uses all the proper deferential wording of inferior to superior but the jounin twitches slightly, his glare heating, his hands fisting on the desk.

"You..." the man says, an edge to his voice, in the air.

"I'm afraid you are holding up the line, jounin-san," Iruka interjects coolly. He lifts his head and motions with a hand to the next shinobi who walks up to the desk with his own report and nearly shoulders the other man aside, shooting Gokuro an annoyed look for the delay.

Gokuro all but snatches the rejected report off the desk and stomps away, his small group of genin following him a little warily to the tables at the back. Beside him, Tohru shoots Iruka a rueful glance and rolls his eyes. He mouths a word at Iruka that makes Iruka have to bite back a laugh, so his eyes are still dancing as he smiles up at the shinobi standing in front of him. The man seems slightly dazzled for some reason as he hands over a neatly-written and completely filled out mission report.

"Thank you for your hard work," Iruka says to the man and smiles again as he holds it flat and stamps the scroll in as accepted and ready to be paid. It's B-Rank, so it goes in the stack for tactical review.

The room is still fairly full and so he keeps his focus tight on his work. He's not sure he's relieved when Kakashi doesn't appear in his line, but in Tohru's. He tries not to listen but still hears the quiet murmur of Kakashi's voice in reply as Tohru asks the kinds of questions that only get asked for A-Rank missions.

He's aware when Tohru takes out the red ribbon that means the report needs the Hokage's personal review and winds it around the rolled-up scroll before sealing it with a quick hand-seal. Tohru stands and bows to Kakashi, then gestures to the genin runner stationed at the back of the room. The girl scampers over quickly and accepts the scroll with a bob of her head and a cheerful grin before running off toward the Hokage's office.

Iruka shoots a startled look at Kakashi, who is standing with both hands in his pockets, his visible eye curved faintly in one of his obscure smiles as he appears to be staring blandly out the wide bank of windows behind the mission desk as Tohru notes down the mission as completed in the record books. This is the same mission he asked to turn in to Iruka earlier? An A-Rank that needs the Hokage's attention? Why didn't he just...?

Iruka's attention is drawn sharply back to his own line when a heavy hand slaps a scroll down on the table in front of him.

"It better be good enough for you now, chuunin," a harsh voice snaps at him. Gokuro is back, scarred snarl in place. Iruka fixes him with a stony look and takes the scroll. Unwinds it to find that the handwriting is marginally worse, but at least all the sections are filled out this time.

"Barely adequate, jounin-san. You'll need to be neater next time," Iruka says as he reaches for his stamp to approve it.

"Are you _asking_ for a beating, chuunin?" Gokuro says, leaning in close again. Menace fills the air. Iruka lifts his head and fixes the jounin with a wary look. The man's sneer deepens in contempt. His hand with the stamp is frozen in mid-motion and his eyes narrow. There's a sharpness, a darkness behind the glare fixed on Iruka that shouldn't be there. A dangerous intent. The three genin behind the jounin start to back away. Heads lift and turn their way all around the room.

"My my, that's not very polite of you, Gokuro-kun," Kakashi says in a bored tone into the instant of charged silence.

Iruka's gaze flickers the tiniest bit toward Kakashi then. He knows it's a mistake as soon as he does it. This is just one of those moments that happen sometimes with shinobi. Where all it takes is a tiny crack to let precariously perched control slip over the edge.

Gokuro lunges for him, hands curled like claws, eyes blank and wild, a roar of fury splitting the air.

Iruka snaps into motion, throwing himself back and sideways as the jounin comes for his throat. Tohru moves too, dancing away out of range.

Chairs, piled scrolls and the table go flying.

Grasping fingertips are just brushing his vest as he quckly brings up his arms from the inside to knock the other man's hands away from his neck. But there is a blur of dark blue and green and silver between them before he makes contact.

And then Gokuro is face-down on the floor next to the upturned mission desk, – both his arms pulled straight up behind his back, Kakashi with a knee directly on his spine, his full weight bearing on it – even before two of the ANBU who are always stationed in the Hokage's Tower appear.

Gokuro struggles, twists his arms against the hold. "I'll break them both," Kakashi says with cold intensity and Gokuro abruptly goes motionless. Until Kakashi leans down and says something into his ear that makes the man buck uselessly and snarl at him again. The two ANBU crouch down beside Kakashi and his prisoner; the gloved hand of one reaches out and presses against a set of nerve-points and the pinned jounin abruptly goes limp.

Iruka slips the senbon tipped in anesthetic that he'd palmed back into its hiding place in his vest, knows Tohru is doing the same with his own. Breaking shinobi is an occasional hazard of the Mission Room that is well understood by all who work here. With a sigh, Tohru rights his chair and starts to gather up the scattered scrolls and papers around them.

Iruka watches as Kakashi releases the unconscious man and stands, allowing one of the ANBU to gather him up. A swift set of hand-seals follow and they vanish. The other ANBU exchanges a few words with Kakashi who nods once. The ANBU bows to him slightly, then vanishes too.

Most of the rest of the shinobi in the room are already back to normal, or pretending to be. This kind of thing isn't something most of them haven't seen before. Except for the man's genin team who are huddled on the far side of the room, their eyes wide, their stance confused.

"You three," Iruka says to them gruffly. "Help get this table back up." Two of them hurry forward at his order, but the third is still staring at the place where his jounin-sensei had been pinned, a stunned look on his face. Kakashi ambles over to the boy and starts to talk to him.

"Do you know where they took Gokuro-sensei?" the girl of the pair lifting the mission desk back into place asks Iruka, her face carefully blank. The other boy is watching him too, trying not to look anxious and failing.

"To the hospital," Iruka says quietly as he helps them slide it into the proper spot. "Report to the main desk there and they'll let you know."

"Thank you, chuunin-san," she says, dropping her gaze slightly. "Gokuro-sensei's been very busy training us lately you know."

Iruka just nods and stays silent. Gokuro may not be one of the nicest jounin out there, but he is still a Konoha shinobi. Iruka hopes this is just a small crack. For his students' sake, at least.

The small group comes together again at the back of the room. Kakashi nods to the boy he was talking to, who bows to him slightly before the three of them hurry away.

Iruka is helping Tohru gather papers and scrolls when Kakashi saunters back to the mission desk.

"I told them they'll still get paid for today," he says mildly, his gaze skimming once lightly over Iruka, stopping briefly on his throat before moving up to catch his eyes. "Okay, sensei?" There is a touch of heat there that Iruka can't quite interpret. But it makes his pulse jump harder now than it had when the jounin lunged for him. For some reason he flushes slightly too and drops his gaze to the jumble of scrolls in his hands. They'll have to be re-sorted again, he knows. Everything is all mixed up.

"Yes," he answers Kakashi, suddenly feeling breathless again.

Tohru claps him on the back. "Last month it was two of 'em. Kinda hoped we were going to miss out this month," his co-worker says with a wry smile. Iruka gives a small laugh in return and agrees.

Kakashi is still watching him from a hooded eye. Iruka lays the scrolls he has on the table and reaches for his chair. After he carefully rights it and looks back up again, Kakashi is gone.

He sits down, draws a steadying breath, and finishes out his duties for the day as cheerfully as he can.

~*~

Iruka leaves the Hokage's Tower much later than ususal that evening. The jumbled mission scrolls did take quite a bit of extra time to sort out, though he and Tohru at least made a bit of a game of it, tossing the different ranked scrolls to each other across the emptied mission room. The sun is still showing just above the treeline, its late afternoon rays warm and welcoming. He pauses a moment and lifts his face to them, closing his eyes briefly the better to enjoy the faint heat.

"Yo," a familiar voice says from somewhere up and to his left. His pulse speeds up, his breath catches. It's a little alarming how immediate his response is just to the other man's voice. Even outside in public like this. He looks over and finds Kakashi sitting on a slanted roof across the street, garish book in hand.

"Good afternoon, Kakashi-san," he says. No, what's even more alarming is how many times he's encountered the other man already in one day.

A quick movement and Kakashi is landing beside him, book vanishing into a back pouch. Iruka darts a cautious glance at him as he starts to walk toward home, half-expecting some comment. But the jounin just falls silently into step beside him, both hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped. He seems to amble more than stride. Though Iruka is walking briskly, like he always does, Kakashi has no problem keeping up.

The streets around them are busy with evening business. Shopkeepers are winding up for the day, calling out special deals. Restaurants and bars are opening up, setting their signs out with lists of specialties and delicacies. Shinobi and civilians alike are starting to think of food and entertainment for the evening. He's already returned the greetings of several aquaintances, aware of the way their gazes flicker toward the silent man beside him speculatively.

It's all peaceful and normal and very very public. He's not sure how much more of it he can stand.

"Going home?" Kakashi asks a few blocks later.

"Of course." Iruka nods. Glances at him again and comes to a stop when he realizes Kakashi has paused at an intersection. People pass around them, chattering and laughing.

The other man cocks his head to the side and looks at him, his gaze calm. "Come to mine tonight," he says. It's not a question.

Iruka licks his lips. Hesitates. They've never stayed anywhere other than Iruka's apartment before. Though usually because Kakashi just shows up there. Kakashi's expression hasn't changed from cool dispassion, but he finds he can't look away. His blood warms, his pulse throbs in his veins.

"Okay," he finally says, feeling as if all the air is leaving his lungs with the word. Kakashi smiles behind his mask, his eye curving. Then he turns and ambles off down the opposite street. Iruka follows, trotting a few steps to catch back up and walk beside him.

Kakashi's apartment isn't that much different than his own. Just smaller. Less lived-in looking.

It's so small there isn't even a proper genkan, just a few squares of different-colored tile. He stands by the door removing his sandals, Kakashi beside him. When he sets the last one down and straightens up, Kakashi is waiting. Watching.

It's obvious why Kakashi brought him here; his erection is clearly visible even under his loose uniform pants. Iruka just doesn't know why he isn't already flat on his back on the narrow bed across the room. Or pressed hard against the door behind him. Iruka's heart races; his hands tremble and he feels himself quickly swelling in his pants. Despite the fact that this isn't their usual pattern at all.

"Kakashi-san?"

"It's not easy, finding out you're a possessive type this late in life," Kakashi says quietly into the stillness after he says his name. "I nearly broke his arms anyway. If he'd actually managed to touch you I would have."

Iruka makes a noise then, but no words come, his mind spinning. He fists his hands at his sides to calm their trembling as the other man's words sink in. Iruka had been ready to defend himself. He and Tohru would have been well able to deal with the jounin's attack. But no one has been willing to fight for him – just for him – in years. He's not quite sure how he feels about that. Not yet.

He can't look away from Kakashi's mouth under his mask. Thinks of layers and layers. Between them. Around them. He can see them all with sudden clarity. The jounin's lips twist into a bitter smile as he stays silent. He knows Kakashi is watching him, waiting for him to say something, but still he can't drag his eyes higher than that mouth or make himself speak.

"Perhaps I've gone too far already," Kakashi says ruefully. "Taken too much advantage." He sighs. "I brought you here so that you can be free to leave, if you wish, Iruka-sensei, and not feel obliged to play host to a possibly unwelcome guest."

Iruka's not sure he's breathing for a moment, his heart jumps so hard in his chest. But then it's racing and he's sucking in short, urgent breaths as the layers suddenly collapse in his mind. Become only one possibility.

"If there's to be anything more, you'll have to start it, sensei," Kakashi continues quietly, tilting his head back slightly, and Iruka's gaze shifts up to his hooded gaze automatically. Is caught there even though the Sharingan is still covered. "Or leave."

Still holding that oddly solemn gaze, Iruka unzips his vest. His hands are steady as he shakes it off his shoulders, tosses it aside. He strips his uniform shirt off over his head in one quick motion, dislodging his forehead protector along the way. It thumps loudly against the door as it falls, landing somewhere near the growing heap of his clothes.

His hands drop to the weapon wrap and pouch on his thigh. He unbuckles the pouch, tosses it toward the door. But his fingers pause above the folds of the wrap. It'll take too long to unwind, he thinks impatiently, his mind whirling. He draws a kunai from his belt, bends his knee and slices white cloth away from his thigh. Concealed senbon rain down against the floor to one side of his bare foot.

He steps away, kicks the severed wrap free, and puts himself against Kakashi half naked.

Kakashi's gaze flickers, softens, heats as Iruka lifts his hands to the mask, pulls it down and presses his mouth hard over his. Cupping his face between his hands, he opens Kakashi's mouth with his own. Urgent and quick. His tongue and lips and breath heating against Kakashi's. Presses himself close. Bare chest to weapons vest. Slides his knee between Kakashi's, their thighs, their hard cocks rubbing together firmly even through both pair of uniform pants.

But it's still only him doing the touching. He pulls away from Kakashi's mouth slowly, lingering about it. Looks into the heavy-lidded eye, his own lids just as heavy, his gaze hot with longing.

"I don't want to leave," Iruka says, his voice husky with the need that has been almost choking him for hours. Since the hallway. Since Kotetsu's interruption. "So stop holding back and put your damn hands on me already."

Kakashi settles his hands on Iruka's hip, his back, tightening his hold slowly as Iruka reaches up and pulls off his forehead protector. Tosses it onto the pile behind them. The exposed Sharingan spins, settles, gleams. He wraps a hand behind Kakashi's neck and leans in until Kakashi's lips move beneath his own again.

"Whatever you say, sensei."

\--owari--


End file.
